Bleeding Rose
by JeffC FTW
Summary: His one desire was to defeat death, and she risked everything to make him hers.
1. Prologue: My Last Breath

**Finally, I give you "Bleeding Rose", my latest retelling of the Re-Animator movie. Only this time, Daniel Cain does not exist PERIOD. As the story goes, Herbert West is at the top of his class at the Miskatonic University Medical School in Arkham. He is highly intelligent...but a little strange, even to Megan Halsey, the beautiful daughter of the dean and a fellow medical student, who is also engaged to the prominent Dr. Carl Hill, Herbert's most hated rival. So when the mysterious Herbert West arrives on campus, she finds herself fascinated by his brilliance, bristled by his arrogance...and allured by his charms. But then she becomes involved in his freakish experiments centering around the re-animation of dead tissue. The consequences threaten everything, but Meg can't deny the ice-cold, intellectual man inflames her soul. Herbert does not have time for women and longs to avoid any form of physical and emotional attachment at all costs, yet her relentless temper and beauty entices him. The classic tale of horror is retold with intense passion.**

 **Disclaimer: I own absolutely NONE of Re-Animator, just making this newest retelling of mine for fun. :) And the chapters are named after songs by Evanescence, and their content inspired by parts of the same songs.**

Prologue

My Last Breath

Since last night, Herbert West had been working on this latest amalgamation of the re-agent he and Dr. Gruber had been at work on all this time, for months at most. And Dr. Gruber, the man who had been the one main figure in his life since he abandoned his old life in Arkham, Massachusetts, had allowed him to live with him in the last few years of his education, even allowing him to use the basement lab of his own house for their "great work", far away from perusing eyes. This was the secret to re-animation, to bring back to life dead tissue. This had been founded nine months ago with what Hans had already done before him on a dead canine found, and the results were anticipated but unwanted, and Herbert had taken matters into his own hands to synthesize and extend.

Tonight his professor would be giving his lecture at the seminar for newcomers to the University of Zurich. The only thing Herbert looked forward to was Gruber's speech about the theory of conquering death. The world was not ready for a demonstration of the still-unknown re-agent until the subject was docile as it should be. Violence was intolerable. Herbert wanted nothing more than to listen to Gruber's presentation and then leave with him right away so they could continue working, but his nurse colleague had insisted they stay for the reception party afterwards. He sneered at the idea of attending wasteful events like that as much as he hated women like her with immense passion, another good reason he planned to never be with any woman, put his career above everything else, and despite his teacher's attempts to get him to go out and find a girlfriend. Women just were despicable; they were good at playing men off to get what they wanted. Dr. Hans Gruber was the best teacher he ever had and only friend while he was at the University of Zurich, one of the most prestigious institutes of medicine in Europe. He was better than nobody at all, but then again, Crawford had been better than nobody at all when they were children. Even at school, both back in Arkham and here in Switzerland, he would always get the same things said about him, and they weren't nice either.

They were running short of time. They had been working on the notes and discussing further developments when they both realized they'd lost track of time and hurried off to the school. And as a consequence, the woman he didn't want to see greeted them both at the door. "Dr. Gruber!" she exclaimed, running over to him and throwing her arms around him in the most unprofessional manner. It disgusted Herbert because they were about to enter the auditorium. " _Was is passiert?_ " She'd asked him what happened in German, limited as Herbert's was even though he was learning.

"Please, Marg," Gruber said with a laugh, "my student is still learning, so please, English around him. We just got hung up on some personal business that we lost track of the time." Marg Wyss raised and eyebrow at him though she was still smiling before her attention shifted to Herbert.

"Hooking him up, I pray?"

Herbert's nerves rattled when she assumed Gruber was trying to set him up with a girl. He glared at her, which she returned eventually. "Excuse me, but why would he take the time to introduce me to a female I have no interest in? I thought you knew him better than that, Nurse Wyss," he said coldly.

She huffed and drew back from Dr. Gruber. "Well, Hans, what were you thinking taking on this arrogant thing as your apprentice?" she said angrily, hands on her hips, her pie face red with humiliation. But Gruber only laughed and put his hand on her shoulder.

"Marg, he just doesn't find the opposite sex fascinating as he does with the boundaries of life and death," he said heartily, abandoning her side then and rejoining Herbert. "Now, if you don't mind, dear, I'm going to take my boy in so we can begin." Saved by the bells. Herbert breathed a sigh of relief and walked in with everyone else to begin. He took his seat in the front row so he could see his teacher better and so Hans could see him giving all the support he needed. And when he did, Herbert found himself beside a few empty chairs which gave him a splash of relief that he would be sitting alone – until the one directly beside him was soon occupied.

The man looked somewhere between late forties to early fifties, slightly larger in frame than Herbert's shorter, slimmer body. His jaw was angular and almost sharp, his features and air overall insisted he was given respect and attention when it was clear he didn't actually deserve it. Herbert sensed this man was trouble the moment he laid his eyes on him. He felt the stranger's eyes linger on him vehemently – unnerving as it was, as though the man knew who he was – but Herbert kept his own on the podium as applause roared up when the respected and renowned Dr. Hans Gruber came to stand and smile.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, and thank you for coming tonight and giving me the opportunity to speak with the upcoming bright young minds from both America and Europe alike. Before we begin, I would love to ask you all one thing, as irrational as it may sound to all of you: would you love nothing more than to vanquish death once and for all?"

His question stirred the audience. Herbert smiled softly to himself that he had their attention for what he had to say, and relished the moment for it. But then it was ruined when the man beside him muttered to himself, "Hans, you fool. You really think so?" Herbert unwillingly turned his attention from his idol and mentor to the older "gentleman" beside him.

"I beg to differ, sir, but he's correct. Dr. Gruber believes anything is possible. Who are you to doubt his words of wisdom?" He tried his best to keep his voice as low as possible so no one heard the conversation, also trying his best to listen to Hans' words.

"– irreversible, after the four minute limit, but it might be possible to extend the time...or perhaps overcome indefinitely –"

"The name is Dr. Carl Hill, young man," the older man said, his face bearing a smirk not meant to be polite by any means, bordering on hypnotic to the point of intimidation. He wanted nothing more than to crawl away from him, but that would mean getting kicked out for interruption. "Leading brain surgeon of New England, and an old friend and colleague of your teacher up there." He nodded to Dr. Gruber in the front, whom Herbert found it in him to turn his attention back to. "Perhaps introductions are best for later," the mysterious, arrogant Dr. Hill suggested when he noticed Herbert was no longer willing to speak to him, and he wasn't very pleased at being disrespected. Why should Herbert care about how he felt, even if he was an "acquaintance" of Gruber's?

"Perhaps," was all Herbert answered for the rest of the evening.

By the end of the seminar, Dr. Gruber was applauded, but to Herbert himself, it was he who offered the most support for his teacher – beside him, Carl Hill clapped, too, but let's call his manner apathy – although when the lights turned on and showed all who praised him, Gruber's eyes landed on the front where he saw Herbert, his best pupil and assistant in the classroom, and smiled at him with the upmost pride...until his attention switched to WHO was beside him. His wizened face fell just like that.

Now Herbert had the feeling the rest of tonight was going to be interesting.

"Carl," Hans said curtly as he stood before them just as everyone was standing and leaving for the reception. "I was beginning to think that you decided to play ungracious and not attend."

Hill's smile faded. "Well, I'm here. And as much as I hate to put the jovial mood of tonight down, I saw your...theories have not improved by the slightest. Still chasing the foolish idea of the brain surviving unlimited after death –"

"If you're here to mock me some more," Gruber interrupted angrily, "I suggest you could have picked a better time during your stay here after tonight." He looked to Herbert. "Herbert, my boy, I see you've met Dr. Carl Hill." He tried his best to remain polite and failed. How did he and Hill know each other anyways?

Herbert regarded the other doctor like a rat who wasn't welcome into his house. "We have." The look Hill gave him held uncontrollable fire in his eyes, meeting their match at once.

"Herbert is like the son I lost so long ago," Gruber said, putting both his hands on both of Herbert's shoulders and drawing him closer. The act and feel made Herbert somewhat uncomfortable in front of this loathsome man. "He's exceeded far better than any other student I've taught, and I have great confidence in him, Carl, unlike I do with you with your theories."

Hill had folded his arms over his chest. "The matter of the brain surviving six to twelve minutes, which I have yet to further myself as you have yet to prove your own, Hans?" he sneered. "Your foolish thesis about overcoming the barrier of brain death, which is hardly feasible."

"First of all," Herbert fumed, finally standing up for his mentor, "his theories aren't foolish. And secondly, we can PROVE that there is still brain activity even after death."

Hans and Hill both looked down at him, the latter in shock mixed with rage at being talked at from a younger man, and Gruber burst into a series of loud guffaws that literally shook the walls. "Ah ha, that's my boy!" He slapped Herbert's back for encouragement. "See, Carl? I'm not the only one who believes in my 'foolish theories' as you so put it."

"Hmph, another child who doesn't know any better. I'd have thought by now you'd stop surrounding yourself with children, Hans."

"Child?!" Herbert burst and pulled free from his teacher's hold. "How can you have the nerve to come here and insult his ideas and call me nothing more than an adolescent?! Dr. Gruber –" He looked up at his professor. "– you should never have asked this pompous fool to come along if he's just going to get away with insulting you this way. Now, Dr. Hill, if you would excuse us," he said hotly to the now tomato-faced man, "we have a party to celebrate." As much as he made it loud and clear that he hated those things, he had to get his pallid-faced mentor out of here fast.

"My boy, you defended my honor," Hans praised him with another slap to the back. "You do me proud."

Herbert scoffed. "You should have been careful being colleagues and 'old friends'," he said sarcastically, "with an intrusive, uncivil swain like Dr. Hill. And how in the world did you ever know him in another life?"

Hans sighed and ran a hand over his balding head. "Carl and I were, shall we say...old friends back when we were young men. Some days friends, some days enemies. We bounced back and forth in between them. But let's say that Carl was always jealous of me because I was the better one than him, not that I would call myself that," he added with a little laugh, making Herbert manage the slightest one for the first time tonight.

~o~

The formula was completed, and now all the serum needed was a test. Herbert looked at the needle with the utmost pride in himself. Gruber would be proud of him, but they needed a subject. The ones on various small animals killed brought on the needed vital signs of life, but they were violent, and that was not what they needed. Herbert smiled lovingly down at the syringe in his hand – the dosage twenty-five CC's – as the subject had to be human. As a student, he had no access to the morgue, but Dr. Gruber was authorized to enter as being a faculty member. They would have to do it in secrecy, though, given many of the people in this country and around the world would not approve of "blasphemous acts", as it was put.

He jerked around when he heard the sound of his mentor's screams and wails...out of despair and grief. What had happened? Herbert would soon find out, as he, needle still in hand, exited the lab and found his teacher leaning over the island, head in hands, and sobbing as though he were a child again instead of the brilliant, kind, older man who had taken Herbert under his wing, acting like the father Herbert had deserved instead of the one back home in Arkham who never recognized his potential, same with the mother who hated him for being born unplanned. "Dr. Gruber?"

"He – He did it, my boy," Gruber choked out, raising his head only slightly, but Herbert still did not see his face all the way. "He took the papers, and he passed them off as his own. I'm finished, Herbert."

He had the slightest idea _who_ he was talking about. "Hill."

"Yes, and what's worse: I might not be able to be the one to present the serum as our greatest achievement in the history of medicine." He looked up at last, and Herbert felt his stomach and heart drop at the same time. "I trusted him; I trusted him, and he deceived me! He stole the records and showed them when they weren't ready, including what I did long before you came, my boy." He reached up to rub his temples in a fury. "By God..."

"Dr. Gruber!" Herbert rushed over when his mentor collapsed with a cry and onto his knees. His hold on the needle was secure, but the well-being of Gruber was more important. "Dr. Gruber, not all is lost. I've finished the serum, and all it needs is a test..."

Gruber looked up at him with a small smile. "Then, Herbert, it is time then."

Herbert frowned. "Time?"

"My heart is giving away now, so now you can see if it works."

"No..." The horrible truth dawned on him that he was going to lose the man he had grown to love as a father, who had taught him everything he needed to know, when they were so close to conquering brain death now. All because of Hill, that lecherous son of a bitch. If he ever saw him again, Herbert would _literally_ kill him with his bare hands. "No, Hans, you can't go now..."

"My time is up. You're the one left to preserve my legacy and finish what we started." Gruber was now on his back, gasping for air now. He was never going to survive the heart attack, not even from a stimulant, which he would have refused anyway. "Promise me, Herbert," he groaned, grabbing his wrist with the glowing neon green needle that would soon perform what their shared goal involved. "Promise me that...you will...finish what we started. You can't turn back now."

The light in his eyes was leaving him. Herbert nodded furiously as he yanked off the cap of the needle with his teeth just as Dr. Hans Gruber breathed his last breath. There was no time for tears now; Herbert had a mission to accomplish. If this worked on his beloved mentor and teacher, then all of the lives that he could save to follow...

 **Awww, yeah I always knew the hatred between Herbert and Hill always ran deeper than that, and how Hill might have taken the credit for research that wasn't his. :( And Herbert holding his mentor in his arms as he died was so poignant in my imagination, so to bring it to life did the prologue scene in the movie justice, I think. :)**

 **The stories which inspired me for the meeting of Dr. Carl Hill and Herbert, and the fact Hill and Gruber knew each other in school days and the whatnot, were "Hotel Room" by Tendo Rei and "A Stitch in Time and Memory" by TheOtherMaddHatter. :) And thanks to my friend and fellow Re-Animator author, JTHMManson4, for your help in making this an epic flashback.**


	2. Whisper

Chapter One

Whisper

 _There were voices outside: "Dr. Gruber..._ Herr _West...!" But he would not acknowledge them, for he had come all this way. Herbert had sooner than later injected the formula into the back of his dead teacher's neck, at the top of the spinal cord. The dosage was large enough to bring Hans Gruber back to life, but with what limited time there was now that the dean was outside, along with security as well as that Wyss woman..._

 _And then it happened: Gruber's body began twitching, slowly at first and then vigorously, however spastic. Herbert jumped back and stood, watching with anticipation as the serum worked as he'd hoped, but not in the way he'd expected. He'd hoped Gruber would come back the way he had been before, and he hadn't even been dead for but a few minutes. The man let out a series of cries as he flailed about the area, crashing into the table and knocking a few glass beakers and the like over before falling back onto the floor once more. Herbert had the slightest idea that if he increased the dosage, then perhaps the motor functions of the nervous system would operate just right._

 _He hurried back into the lab and increased the dosage by ten CC's – the dosage total would be thirty-five, pray it wasn't too large – and repeated the same ritual...just in time for the very people themselves to break into the lab, the arm of one of the security men busting through the glass window and unlocking the door from the inside. Herbert knew he had no way out, and the tiniest flicker of hope arose at the possibility that if he could just explain the situation to them, and if Gruber pulled through..._

 _But then he looked at the faces of the dean and of stout-faced Marg Wyss, he knew that it would be impossible. But he_ had _to show this breakthrough to them! "My God..." the dean gasped, shocked at the sight of the young scholar over his mentor's still-writhing, still-screaming form._

 _Looking up, Herbert saw one of the security men point a gun at him while the other got behind him and dragged him away. He struggled and shouted, "You idiots, you'll ruin my notes! I have to record his vital signs!" The notes on the vital signs of each specimen had to be documented for next time and so forth, but these men_ – _these braindead machines who only did as they were told_ – _dragged him away from Gruber. "No...!"_

 _"Dr. Gruber?" Oh, blast that woman getting in the way. "Dr. Gruber,_ wie geht's dir _?" Herbert knew she was asking him how he was doing, which was exactly what he was dying to know..._

 _...and the way the man jumped up just like that, eyes squeezed tightly shut in his uncontrollable state. She screamed and jumped back in fright. Herbert managed to jerk himself out of the guards' hands and push the nurse aside. He rushed up to his re-animated professor and turned him around, shaking him and trying to get him to snap out of it. "Dr. Gruber...?!"_

 _He got no spoken response, only an action that shocked the people in this room, especially himself. Gruber didn't seem to take anymore pain than he seemed to be in_ – _ironic that birth was always painful_ – _and put both hands on either side of his head, literally and silently gesturing that he could not take anymore. However, with the amount of pressure, both his eyeballs began to engorge from their sockets, making the poor nurse scream with fright, even more so when the balls popped like water balloons and spewed blood, some of it getting onto her face._

 _Herbert barely heard his own screams as he saw Gruber fall to the floor once more. Dead. Despair washed over him at the failure on the ground, of the corpse of the man he tried to save. Who had made him promise to defeat death once his time was up. That time had been too soon and at such a dire moment. The dean quickly moved forward just as the clearly shaken nurse stepped back, swiping the blood off her face. He checked Gruber's pulse at the neck. A few seconds passed._

 _"_ Er is tot _." Translated to mean what Herbert answered._

 _"Of course he's dead. The dosage was too large." He should have known it, after all those tests on animals, but the same solution never worked alike on different species._

 _"You killed him!" Wyss pointed the finger at him. He glared at her; she wasn't there, none of them were, so she did not see the whole show._

 _"No, I did not!" Herbert spat. He couldn't stand the sight of her, so he settled on looking down at the gore-covered face of Dr. Hans Gruber, his mentor and the man who wanted to defeat death, achieve every doctor's dream that had not yet come full circle. He ignored the burning face of the dean who was more than ready to get rid of him for this, and for that, now Herbert was unsure of what fate had in store for him now._

 _"I gave him life..."_

~o~

He awoke from the dream in a flash, with all the abruptness of a circuit switched to on. His mind was numb and flaring with a mild migraine; he lay perfectly still for a few moments in the worn cot that was his bed, against the wall as well as facing it. He hated sleeping now; when he did, he would dream back to that day. During the sunlit hours, he had so much time to himself when the Great Hag wasn't around, talking him down and labeling him with every psychotic syndrome she could think of – the latest was paranoid schizophrenic. He'd been wrongly committed here; he was in here because of the man whose life he tried to save only to be interrupted and taken into custody. He had been found innocent and instead declared insane and placed in here, with the intentions of keeping him here forever.

It was whispered that he did _not_ kill the world-famous scientist; pathologists uncovered the heart had failed and blown up in his chest like the Hindenburg, but no one believed him when he said he tried to save his life. Herbert West believed then and there that he was done for, that everything they were trying to do had been for nothing. He could hear that voice whispering at the back of his mind that he would still be serving a life sentence and unlikely to ever be released out into the world.

Herbert had been in this godforsaken hell for two months now, but it seemed an eternity. After weeks of "therapy", he felt his mind slowly dwindling bit by bit, due to the lack of sleep and the nightmares that plagued his nights.

The lock to the cell door was opening. He squinted when it opened, and in came an orderly, followed by none other than his therapist, Dr. Nann Giger, her features wrinkled and bony to the point of resembling a walking skeleton, hair painfully tight into a small gray bun behind her skull. Her sharp beady eyes behind her narrow spectacles fell onto him, lips into a tight line as she announced to him whom she had brought with her.

Herbert scrutinized the younger woman, who looked like she could still be in college, near the end. Her glasses were near enough to match his own, which had been resting on the table beside his "bed" and now on his eyes to help his vision. Her hair was soft liquid gold, bangs bobbing, and pulled behind her head not like Giger's; for relaxation and elegance together, not uncaring and painful. Her eyes were as bright a blue as the skies, and her smile was warm and inviting, whilst Giger's was always a tight scowl.

"Herbert..." She said his name like it was a bad aftertaste. "...this is Dr. Katherine McMichaels."

~o~

"Hello, Mr. West." Staring at the young man now sitting in an upright position and curling his legs up to his chest, she counted to three and then five when three didn't work to calm her heartbeat at the venomous look he was giving her. On the way here, she had peeked through the windows of the other cells; she'd seen an elderly man wearing _the_ ring while having something of the known mental episodes, and another in his birthday suit who looked like he was "eating" himself. That alone and the colorful description she'd used made her shudder.

But now, this one who lived at the end of the hallway of the Zurich Institute for the Criminally Insane...she didn't understand why they would just toss him in here like that. His record at the University of Medicine was impressive, and Dr. Hans Gruber had been the one to mentor him. This was precisely why Katherine McMichaels became a psychiatrist: to give the schizophrenics their lives back. Just because they suffered a mental disorder did not mean they deserved to die without living life to the fullest.

In the case of Herbert West, however, just after Dr. Gruber died, the dean and security had found him over his professor's body with a needle in hand, and some unknown substance that had somehow...revived, for lack of a better word, the doctor before he gouged out his own eyes. The blame had been put on West, his lab assistant and at the top of his class.

And who happened to be her fiancée Crawford Tillinghast's cousin.

They had briefed her before her arrival; West had been placed on trial for murdering his professor, although there wasn't enough proof that it was he who killed Dr. Gruber. The autopsy showed that Gruber suffered a heart attack and died, and that Mr. West claimed that he tried to "give him life", therefore ruling him out as delusional. Somehow, she doubted it. Now that Katherine thought of it, she thought back to her research on the renowned scientist. He had his theories about conquering death, a theory that wasn't anything new, and one that had been tried for centuries. This brought her back to past events four months before.

Crawford's own mentor, Edward Pretorius, had invented a device called the Resonator, capable of stimulating the brain's pineal gland for access to other dimensions. The experiment landed Pretorius insane, and he'd been taken for psychiatric evaluation. Katherine had been in charge of overseeing his case, too, and his assistant, Dr. Crawford Tillinghast, had been shaken up by the experience that he couldn't show anyone the machine. However, he had no choice but to bring her, the police, and Pretorius himself back. They almost died, by an entity from the Resonator too grotesque and ethereal for words, that the thing had to be destroyed. Pretorius then lost it and publicly killed himself in front of everyone who witnessed the destruction of the thing that had been designed to take them beyond pleasure and reality.

And now it seemed it ran in the family, having it all going well only to wind up ending badly. She looked down at the man before her, seeing Crawford in his features except for the all-over-the-place hair and the thick-framed glasses, not unlike her own. He regarded her without smiling at her. He didn't trust her. "You're another psychiatrist."

"Yes, I am," Katherine answered politely. "And you were one of Dr. Gruber's best students. Your record at Zurich University is brilliant. You have quite a future ahead."

"But not now," he spat. "Not in here."

He assumed he would be staying in this place for the rest of his life without hopes of release. No, she couldn't let that happen. "Tell me what happened with Dr. Gruber, Herbert. What was the purpose of his...experiments?"

She heard Dr. Giger suck in a deep breath; she knew full well the old woman did not like the whole nature of the man's story, being one of those to hold the long-lived beliefs of her forefathers. But to hear West's story, she needed to know enough to concoct a plan to help acquit him for a mental disorder he was falsely diagnosed with. She watched as Herbert shifted in his bed, turning his head away from her at an angle. It couldn't have been her, so she automatically assumed Giger, who had unnerved her the moment the two women made first talk by the elderly woman calling her patients "lab animals". It wasn't the first time, either.

"Dr. Gruber believed death can truly be conquered. All life isn't resolved around an eternal life after death, and the soul is only a myth. It's all a physical and chemical process; the human body is a complex machine that can be recharged with a new re-agent and set back to life. But in order to do this, we needed fresh bodies for re-animation."

He held with Ernst Haeckel's theory of evolution. "Yes, but that's not a new theory, and there were serums very similar to yours that bring about the chemical reaction –"

He cut her off, his head whipping around then. "Doctor, it's _not_ just a theory."

"Then the experiment – _your_ re-agent – worked," Katherine stated calmly. "It proved your theory."

Herbert's eyes – _Crawford's_ eyes – flashed behind his glasses that she was understanding him. "Yes." His voice was barely more than a whisper. It was so...heartbreaking, and so unsettling at the parallels this experiment-gone-awry had with that of Crawford and Dr. Pretorius.

"Then what went wrong?"

"The dosage was too large," he answered. "We tested it before on animals that died, but they were all too violent, and we needed a fresh human specimen. They're hard to obtain, but then he suffered a heart attack in the classroom. I had no choice but to increase the dosage when he didn't respond, just spasmed and screamed. I would have finished it and succeeded if the experiment wasn't interrupted. It had all been in vain."

"Disgusting," she heard Dr. Giger mutter under her breath. "Abomination..."

Katherine ignored her and went back to listening to West. "Go on."

His voice constricted as though he was trying his hardest not to show any form of emotion. "He made me promise to finish what we started. Now it seems he died for nothing. They'll never let me out and finish my work because they see me mad."

Now she heard all she needed to know. Katherine turned to the woman who oversaw his "treatment". "Let's talk this over outside. Now."

Giger looked bristled at being ordered around in her own asylum. After the two women left the cell, the orderly locking the door behind them, they met face-to-face with Christoph Villiger of the Swiss Department of Justice. "How much did you hear?" Katherine asked, arms folded across her chest.

Villiger was barely into his fourth decade, dark-haired and handsome despite his age, but even his face didn't disguise the fact he wanted to lock up the man found over Hans Gruber's body with a needle in hand. "Enough to think maybe we have a case on our hands, except everyone else wouldn't see the fact that he committed some...alchemic science to bring a dead man back to life."

"But what if he IS telling the truth?" Katherine pressed. "What if that stuff actually _does_ re-animate the dead?"

Villiger stared at her in disbelief. "You mean he's _not_ crazy?"

She contemplated this; it would be difficult to say no without anymore concrete evidence. "I don't know. I mean, Dr. Gruber did die from a heart attack, so maybe...maybe his re-agent actually does bring the dead back to life." Katherine now saw this as an opportunity for what she was known for around the world. Taking a step forward, she said calmly, "I'd like to recreate this experiment. And I need West to do it."

"Oh, that is _absurd_...and unethical," Giger said to the head of the case. Looking Katherine's way, she sneered, "I know your methods. The Girl Wonder. You use your patients so you can make your great discoveries. At least here we try to cure them."

She was intimidating, but she would NOT intimidate Katherine McMichaels, the woman who actually helped the patients. "By locking them up," she countered hotly. "Giving them drugs, taking their lives away. This man has been locked up for two months for a murder he didn't commit. I can give him his life back." She tried persuading _Herr_ Villiger with what she had left, but Dr. Giger was not giving up without a fight with what her frail-looking body bore.

"I'll give you an expert opinion: Herbert West is a classic case of paranoid scizophrenia and delusions...and a dangerous one."

She could take it no more. Physically shoving the malicious old woman away, Katherine pleaded, "If I can create the experiment, then I can prove to that West was only trying to save a man's life. This could revolutionize medicine and be the world's greatest breakthrough and the Eighth Wonder of the World."

Villiger shook his head and sighed, turning away from them. "Believe me, young lady, I'd like nothing better than keep this guy locked up. I've got a dead man with his eyes gouged out, blood on him, but none on West except this damned needle with nothing left for the pathologists to identify. I want to know what the hell is going on here." He paused, taking a heavy breath and shaking his head once more. He gave Giger a short glance before settling a much longer one on Katherine. With reluctance, he answered.

"He's all yours. He's your patient for the time being. Get him the hell out and away from this place."

Smirking triumphantly, Katherine huffed in a disgruntled Dr. Giger's face before going back in with the orderly to collect her prize.

~o~

Herbert found himself at the front door of the facility. He was being released, free to go. Dr. McMichaels had taken him from Dr. Giger's care and placed as her patient. Well, she'd told him herself that he wasn't her patient directly. It was either he could stay there for the rest of his life or he could go with her.

The feeling was surreal, and for a moment, he deliberated the current situation. McMichaels was taking him out of the country with her, and he was thrilled, since he was free from that reeking place he had been for the last two months. He was escaping persecution, but he did not know _exactly_ where the young doctor was taking him.

"Where do you plan on taking me?" he asked once they made their way down the sidewalk, ready to stay at the nearest inn for the night.

"To Arkham, Massachusetts," she answered matter-of-factly. "I plan to enroll you into the Miskatonic Medical School. I spoke to Dean Halsey about it."

He snapped his head in her direction. Did he actually hear right? She was taking him back to America, for the colonial state of mid-Massachusetts near the sea. But it was also where his old life was that he had left behind to train under Gruber...a life he wanted nothing more to do with...

"And what did the man say?" he questioned the young psychiatrist whose methods involved saving her patients from a doomed existence.

She gave a light laugh. "I graduated from there. He said he's guaranteed you on the spot, with your record and all. However, he insists upon a placement test," she finished with a quick glance. They had finally come to the downtown inn, where she got them a room and such for the day.

A placement test did not trouble Herbert by the slightest; he was too preoccupied with the idea of living near the Miskatonic Medical School where he would find great access to any of the facilities containing what he needed. However, it made him wonder why she cared besides some sense of righteousness. "Doctor..." he started.

"Call me Katherine. Or Kathy." She winked. "My mother and fiancée do."

Herbert's eyes fell down to her left hand, where he saw the wink of a silver ring set with three exotic black diamonds. Different but interesting compared to the traditional diamonds Dr. Gruber used be so fond of dishing at him if he ever found it in him to find the girl of his dreams, which was unlikely with the present. "I'm engaged to your cousin," she clarified, flashing him the stones.

Crawford...Dr. Katherine McMichaels was _engaged_ to his cousin Crawford. Herbert hadn't seen him since he had left Arkham, just received letters most of the time. Crawford worked for someone named Pretorius, and also had gone to Miskatonic. "Is Crawford here?" he asked, sitting down in a chair.

"No. This is just me here on business," she answered. "But he knows what happened and wished he was here."

Since they were children, since Crawford's parents died and went to live with Herbert's parents, the two boys had been extremely close while Herbert's own parents did not love him and did not approve of their relationship. Herbert let out a laugh, devoid of humor. "Oh, how is he these days, Katherine?"

He watched as she slipped off her coat to show that she was smartly dressed in a beige suit opened to reveal a pristine white blouse. Oh, yes, not so much different from him after all. "We're getting married in October, and he would love to know if you would love to come to our wedding," she said sweetly. "Be his man of honor."

Herbert leaned back in his chair. He wanted to say that he had more important things to handle, that his work came first above all other things personal just to avoid distractions, but instead he settled on, "If my parents are going –"

"They are," she interrupted. "But we'll make sure that you guys don't speak directly. Crawford told me how you were never close with your parents."

"I'm pleased he did." Herbert nodded. "As far as I'm concerned – or my parents for that matter – I never existed. I give no reason to give anyone affection if they don't deserve it. I have more important things to worry about than someone who doesn't appreciate me."

 **Yups, "From Beyond" is tied with this story. :D I couldn't spoil before, for those who didn't read the end note of "Beyond the Boundaries".**

 **"Shadows" also by Tendo Rei is in thanks to. :) Also, I was inspired by "The Great Herbert West" for Herbert's story of his family in one of my last stories, "Raptured in Re-Animation", though a more positive form with his mother. In "The Great Herbert West" by Replica of Twilight, Herbert and Crawford ARE cousins, though Livejournal stories had them as twins brought up in separate surroundings. Herbert's own mother hated him while his father did nothing about it, and later when she died, his relationship with his father and Crawford deteriorated even though Crawford tried patching things up with him; we all know how Herbert is.**

 **Villiger and Dr. Giger are variations of the characters of "From Beyond", Jordan Fields and the malicious Dr. Bloch (played by director Stuart Gordon's wife Carolyn Purdy-Gordon, who also plays Dr. Harrod).**


	3. Everyone's Fool

Chapter Two

Everybody's Fool

Brain death research, common since 1959 at most, was still ongoing to this very day, currently by Dr. Carl Hill, professor of neurology of the prestigious Miskatonic University Medical School in Arkham, Massachusetts. Brain death had long been known as a vegetative state beyond a simple coma, a case back then concerning twenty patients suffering from a cranial illness after going into cardiac arrest. Three years ago, from this present day, brain death had gone from being called simply "brain death" to the more lengthy "brain stem death" once the Harvard Medical School stepped in with its own discovery: the report that this clinical state had no response, devoid of any sort of reflex of the brain stem.

Originally, it had been determined that the brain stem could survive for four minutes after death; further studies showed six minutes. Now, with the aid of New England scientist Dr. Carl Hill, the dependency was six to twelve minutes until the damage was irreparable to the "point of no return".

But Megan Halsey, daughter of the dean of the medical school and fiancée of Carl Hill, while she followed along on the support of the limit of after-death, held high optimism that a life could still be saved no matter what. At the top of her class, which happened to be taught by none other than the man whom she was going to marry and whom her father had long been colleagues with, as well as one of the best in the ER, she never went down without a fight while still holding extreme caution and anxiety at the first sign of danger. But not when it came to attempting to save the life of a patient.

Today was hectic, this latest victim from diabetes as a result of obesity, ultimately giving in to her failed heart. Meg currently applied pressure to the sternum, fingers interlaced and forcing pressure to the heart. Correction, trying to. The EKG was beeping in the same ongoing siren, the lines flat, but she couldn't let the woman go. Dr. Joan Harrod, her boss, and the nurses were checking the vital signs constantly. One nurse applied the oxygen mask and pumped from the machine into the patient's trachea, attempting to transport air into the lungs for just awhile longer.

Meg felt her lungs tighten as she held her breath, and her ribs hurt in reponse. But that never stopped her. The well-being of another person was more important than her own.

"All right, I'm gonna zap her again," Dr. Harrod announced. Looking up while still performing CPR, Megan watched as the older woman turned around to grab the paddles, ordering the nurse to charge them up and apply the gel. The dumb nurse grabbed the gel tube, but with slow motion. "Come on, let's go!" Harrod snapped.

"Sorry, Doctor."

"Hold the compressions." Meg stepped backwards to let the older woman put the paddles on both sides of the patient's chest, the electrical charge causing the body to flop like a fish. The lines were still straight, and still no movement from the woman. Meg's lungs burned with more fire, moreover from the determination that fueled her veins, but Dr. Harrod was not willing to continue, ever the idealist who decided now was the time to call it quits. "All right, let's call it."

"NO." She would not let the woman go. She quickly moved forward and began to compress the chest once more, earning the disapproval look from her boss. "She just needs a little more time for the drugs to circulate."

"Halsey, we have done everything we can for this woman. She has not responded. She's _gone_."

That last word was all it took for Megan to finally stop. Hopelessness wearied her to the bone; she numbly stepped away from the body just as Harrod turned off the EKG machine and all life support. There you have it: another patient lost. Meg wondered how on earth anyone could ever tolerate this, being the one responsible for tending to a person's health and trying to save a dying person, when in the end that life would be lost. All those people who died every day, taken away in accidents and so forth...they deserved to live longer, but God had the nerve to take them away from their loved ones like that...

If her father ever heard something like that, he would reprimand her for such thoughts against the Maker himself. And he would have done the same if he ever found out that she did IT again, tried uselessly to bring a patient back to life, the word getting out to him by none other than Harrod, who had just now pulled her off to the side as soon as she'd left her side of the patient's bed.

"Your optimism is touching, but a waste of time, Miss Halsey. A good doctor knows when to stop."

In the haze of grief, Meg couldn't stand the woman sometimes. All for this. Only a few good physicians who didn't give up until the victim was revived, but only a few numbers while the rest only cared about what her fiancée offered the school, much to the delight of her father. "Dr. Harrod, just –" Her voice failed her.

"Take her to the morgue," was all she said before she walked away and left her with the body, the needles and tubes being removed by the nurses.

The morgue was one of the last places she wanted to be at, anytime. The place stenched of death, something she wanted to prevent. Megan steered the gurney, the weight of it due to the occupant covered by a dark teal sheet, with mild difficulty due to her limited strength, and on the way she received looks from certain people. Some smiled, others gave no emotion other than a simple glance, and the rest giggled at the sight of her. Her cheeks burned half from humiliation, half from anger and loathing together. Being the dean's daughter and engaged to the prominent brain researcher himself who taught neurology 101 had marked her as a target amongst much of her peers; high school hadn't been much of a problem, being voted sophomore sweetheart at the time and finally prom queen in her senior year, but it changed once she'd been accepted into Miskatonic Medical. People whispered about her but never spoke directly to her, except it had been like she developed telepathy.

 _"Look, here she comes now, the dean's spoiled little princess...and Hill's hoe."_ That horrible nickname had all but degraded her dignity no matter how hard she did her best to hide it. _"She's so perfect unlike the rest of us, no shame at all."_

This was exactly what she was: everybody's fool. She was a joke amongst her fellow students, and because of that she had no friends, just classmates who would invite her to gossip but never hang out with her outside school, and most of the time it was just her reading books, saving lives in the ER, and her father being her only rock since her mother died during high school. Those, and Dr. Hill who had acted as a near-uncle figure for her since Marianne Halsey passed away.

"Hey, Mace," she called to the security guard, one of the few people she actually liked, outside the double doors of the morgue, which was also where Carl taught classes. "I got another one for you."

He gave a little snort at the sight before pointing to the doors. "They ain't locked. Doc Hill's in the autopsy room."

Great, just great. Her "intended" – an old-fashioned way of putting it – was in there. She abandoned the gurney to get the doors for herself. "Don't know why they keep locked doors around here," Mace continued, hoping to cheer her up. He knew how much she hated losing people who were brought in to be saved and returned to their lives only for them to lose that chance. "Nobody wants in...and ain't nobody getting out."

"Yeah." Megan continued the steering by taking the gurney by the end she was at now, paying no mind to Carl, who was currently testing out his latest invention of lobotomy with Dr. Riley; thankful that he paid her no mind and said nothing to her, Meg paused to open the door labeled _Restricted Area_ and hauled the corpse inside to join the others.

Said other bodies were in black garbage bags, and the moment she entered, the rancid smell suddenly filled her nostrils; Meg sucked in a breath and held it in. Her lungs had settled after the pressure of CPR, but the tightness slowly returned as she angled the table so that the newest addition joined her companions.

Meg shrieked and jumped when something touched the back of her thigh; whirling around, she saw that the arm of the body "right next door" had fallen out without being touched. Hissing and not wanting to touch that thing, she slipped by and hurried out of the morgue, closing the door and locking it behind her. Finally, a breath of fresh air and relief. She waved off the invisible air just for the hell of it.

Her scrubs were smelling of perspiration; she needed a nice hot shower to rid of the putrid after-effects of the morgue's rot and her own sweat, but that wouldn't come until three more hours. Until then, she had more patients coming in and more Dr. Harrod to deal with.

She found herself dazed and drawn to watching Carl drill a laser beam into the front of the skull of a male's body. In the 1930's, going back to the very beginning, lobotomy – then known as "leucotomy" – was used to treat mental illnesses by the Portuguese scientist Moniz, winning the Nobel Prize in exchange. The name of the operation changed to the now-known "lobotomy" in 1936. Severing certain nerves was believed to eliminate emotion and stabilize the mind, but it also shocked most people to their cores as much as it did to Meg. It was popular in mental asylums until antipsychotic medications came about, the times very unpleasant and tragic; some results excellent and a lot in between. At one time, one of the patients was a boy of only twelve years old!

Meg had read the works of one Dr. Katherine McMichaels, a young psychiatrist who did not believe in locking up schizophrenics and the like, but used her patients as "lab animals", as critiqued by others who locked up the crazies. Dr. McMichaels held firm ideals that these people had their lives taken away, drugs given without so much as compassion or sympathy, all in the name of separating sane from insane. Meg admired this woman, who was exactly the same age as she was and, from what she'd read as well, gone to Miskatonic Medical before graduating early and traveling the world for her missions. She was known in Switzerland, here in Arkham, as well as England and seven states in America.

Carl had finished drilling into the frontal lobe and picked up a Q-tip to stick into the hole he'd made, taking blood samples for analysis of germ and disease. This made Meg think of the last time in 1967, one man treating a longtime patient who suffered brain hemorrhage and died. Since then, the operation itself ceased in many states and countries until it was officially banned in the seventies. Germany and Japan were among those to outlaw the operations; the Soviet Union of Russia called it "contrary to the principles of humanity".

And now Carl Hill was trying to bring it back. It frightened Megan to her very core, but she doubted her father would listen to her, and Carl wouldn't stop even if she wanted him to. It made her wonder if her father even knew about this, or even if he did, then Carl would just pull the strings on Daddy's mind as a radical and new idea for mainstream medicine.

She jumped out of her thoughts when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Seeing her father's face, she relaxed and laughed with him. "I'm sorry, Meg," Alan Halsey, dean of the medical school, said half-heartedly. "I didn't meet to scare you."

"No, it wasn't too bad, Daddy," she assured him. "I just didn't know anybody was here." She actually meant to say "anybody else", but another voice was there before her, and she was only mildly startled.

"You mean anybody else."

The young man was examining one of the fetal samples which were lying about, paying her no mind but still seeming to listen to the conversation in front of him. He had dark hair shining under the light, naturally wavy but still close to his skull, with a soft fringe over his right eye; both eyes behind a large pair of glasses. He was dressed in a black suit opening to a white shirt and black tie. His accent was soft, hinting that he was from around here. Her father waved his hand in the stranger's direction.

"Meg, this is Herbert West. He'll be joining you in your third year. He was doing...independent research in Switzerland with Dr. Gruber shortly before he died."

"Oh..." She remembered hearing it on the news, about the world-famous scientist's untimely death in his own classroom, from a heart attack. Megan found herself looking at the man, this Mr...West, was it? He gave her father a quick glance before landing his calculating eyes on the body Carl was working on. The way he eyed it made her slightly unnerved...

"Mr. West, this is my daughter, Megan Halsey, one of Miskatonic Medical's best young hopes for the future of medicine." Meg felt her pulse quicken when she found herself staring briefly into a pair of soft green eyes, two glittering gems set in a canvas of skin so pale she wondered if he ever got any sun. Then she shook herself, wondering where that came from. But he was just so...mysterious, for lack of a better word her frazzled brain could think of.

And that smile did it. It was short-lasting, and it looked like it was forced, because he never seemed to smile at anyone. Not even if he was even the least bit interested. Meg held up her hand to try to shake his, smiling a little, hoping to at least make this new face welcome. "What were you researching?" she asked, even though she was familiar with Dr. Hans Gruber's research into brain death and hopes of overcoming it. Not a surprise, but he'd been known to break barriers in the fields.

"Death," was all West said, ignoring her hand and instead making way for the body on the table. Staring after him, Megan couldn't help but think how rude it was for him to not shake her hand. Was he naturally so? And the scent of him she caught as he gently brushed past her...whatever it was that was so exhilarating...greens, grapefruit, maybe something peppery...

"Oh, Alan, we don't see you around here much anymore," Carl said, abandoning his work, now finished and greeting her father, his longtime comrade and father of the bride. Meg avoided looking at him directly, instead focused on the odd new man who was now joining the school's student body. And who was so fixated on the corpse on the operating table. "You used to come down here all the time, just for the sake of it."

"Well, I was just showing our newest student here..." Alan motioned for the mysterious suit-and-tie man, whom Megan was still fixated on. "...Herbert West, the not-so-grand tour." He leaned in, voice lowered, but she still heard him. "This should interest you, Carl: he worked with Hans Gruber."

No response came from her fiancée. Tilting her head to the side so she saw him halfway, she read his facial expressions to know well that he seemed to have known this young man...and wasn't at all pleased to see him.

"Uh, Mr. West?" Alan asked, getting his attention at once. West only responded by turning his head around halfway, not speaking. "This is our eminent brain researcher and grant machine, Dr. Carl Hill."

Meg watched him turn around, and there was a hard determination to his face that she'd not expected to see. His eyes regarded her future husband with a fierce animosity that she should have expected from his arrogant demeanor. "I know your work, Dr. Hill," he stated; how on earth did that soft voice that bordered on the edge of a glacier cliff do such a good job at making such a bad first impression? "Quite well. Your theory on the location of the will in the brain is..." He paused, trying to stifle the laugh that had to be sarcasm. "...interesting." Then he got serious and more in the fighting mode, as though to say "bring it on". Meg held her breath when she looked at her father's displeased face, and Carl folding his arms across his chest at this disrespectful new student.

"Though derivative of Dr. Gruber's research in the early seventies. So derivative that, in fact, in Europe, it's considered plagiarized." West's eyes narrowed slightly as though detecting something he did not like one bit. "And your support of the twelve minute limit of the life of the brain stem after death –"

" _Six_ to twelve minutes, Mr., uh..." Carl was trying to provoke him, or maybe he wasn't. Meg couldn't tell, but either way, this was going to be very interesting now that she was sure this Mr. West would be in this class with her. And Carl Hill as his teacher, which would make it even _more_ interesting. She could just picture constant drama on a daily basis...

"West. Herbert West." He clicked his consonants, namely the "t". "Frankly, Dr., uh..." He returned the older man's words back onto him. "...Hill, your work on brain death is...outdated."

Megan shifted uncomfortably at the situation; she had never been one for drama, unless it was she who started it, and she wasn't afraid to say what she had to say. Except when it came to her father and Carl, the latter whom had suggested the idea to Alan that he should take his daughter as his wife and marry her once she'd graduated and got her MD.

And for that, the very subject on her mind came up. The last thing she had wanted to hear today.

Her father frowned at West for a moment before turning to Hill. "Uh, Carl, while I remember, we were having a grant committe meeting Thursday. We'd love it if you came to dinner." Meg felt herself loosen a little the moment, but only because the green eyes of Herbert West met hers once more; she gave a nervous smile, but he didn't return it. His lips were set in the same tight line.

"Well, I'd love to Alan. Looking forward to it." Carl nodded, but then his demeanor changed once he settled back on his new student. "And, uh...looking forward to seeing you in class, Mr. West." West glared at him but said nothing. Carl returned it and walked out without another word.

What had just happened? Now that he was gone, it seemed as though the room was in a blur, for some unknown reason. Meg was still staring out the door Carl had vanished through, and her father's face looked like it was struggling to keep himself together. West, however, had turned his back to them completely and went back to checking out the dead man still on the table.

"I'm sorry you had to hear that, sweetheart."

"No bother," she said, and then she remembered something that she had been meaning to ask him for awhile now; even though she had one more year until she graduated, next year, it was never too early. And no matter who the person in charge of that was. "Daddy, I've been meaning to ask you, but I don't know if it's the right time..."

He smiled warmly. "No, it's the perfect time."

"I was wondering if you could write me a letter of recommendation for the Wellman Scholarship." It had originally been Carl's idea to give her the grants and everything, so she had to go through him. But she needed to get independent; all her life had been centered around being close to home. The reason she stayed home in college was just to make sure nothing happened to her father, and she couldn't even say no to marrying Dr. Hill, who had also been there to watch her grow up.

He was beaming at her. Drawing her in for an embrace, he answered, "Why, yes, of course, I will. This scholarship will help you do great things for your career. I'm so proud of you that you made it this far."

Yeah, far enough to get into the career she wanted to do only to wind up in a future marriage she never imagined being in the first place. That had never been how she imagined herself, but then again, she couldn't say no for fear of destroying her relationship with her father.

"Mr. West?" At the sound of his name, he looked up from examining the autopsy tag on the corpse's left foot, eyes alert and aware. "I'll take you to pathology."

"Oh...good." He pulled the sheet back over its feet and followed her father out of the morgue. Meg watched him go, still remaining where she was until Dr. Riley returned. She had to admit it, mysterious was for lack of a better word in her dictionary, but those intense green eyes sparked some sort of curiosity in her that she had more and more trouble trying to get them out of her head. His attitude also sparked a fire in her that she could imagine he would do to her like he did to Hill. He didn't seem to like anyone.

If that was the case, then Meg Halsey knew that she did _not_ wish to meet up with Herbert West face-to-face either in the classroom or outside of it again.

 **The links to a few articles I found on the subject of brain stem death was from an article called "ABC of brain death", and that of lobotomy cited from another which I forgot, but Wikipedia is equally reliable. Though, sadly, I couldn't find where I found out the original time the brain stem had left to live, either. :( Both cases are very fascinating, though the latter disturbs me greatly.**


	4. Where Will You Go

**I'd read the original story of "From Beyond", so here comes what I'm known to do. :) And Crawford in that version originally a twisted man? I sometimes wonder why it was decided to make him so sweet and innocent but goes through so much in the movie. :( And it broke my heart that he didn't get the girl.**

Chapter Three

Where Will You Go

Horrible beyond conception was how it was for Crawford Tillinghast when he was under the tutelage of Dr. Edward Pretorius. Though at first, it wasn't so difficult when his brilliant record at Miskatonic University landed him as the active and enthralled assistant of the renowned physicist. He'd been assisting Pretorius for a year until IT happened, and the shattering experience of the mind for him. Well, shattering for Pretorius and nearly so for his own and Katherine's, and the authorities present. Leading to Edward taking his own life in the name of failure.

Crawford remembered, as much as he didn't want to, how they shut themselves mostly in the attic laboratory of the ancient, lone house on Benevolent Street, ironically numbered 666 – the number of the beast befitting what transpired in the house – with that accursed machine. Crawford had always wanted to study science and philosophy ever since he was a child; mistakes were bound to happen, and this being with tragic results. Science and philosophy offered horrible alternatives to the man involved: despair if he failed, and unimaginable terror if he succeeded. Truer words had never been spoken with the latter.

But Crawford had turned them off in favor of his mentor, whose excitement at pushing the theory of the pineal gland being a sixth sense into his own wave of elation. Pretorius said and he quoted, "With five feeble senses, we pretend to comprehend the boundlessly complex cosmos, but it will no longer be enough. It will be too much to resist once the pineal gland is stimulated for access to a parallel universe of pleasure never before seen by man."

Temptation was easy to fall, so it had been that when Crawford completed the final programming, and then it happened the night hell broke loose for them: the detestable electrical machine – the Resonator – glowing with a sickly, sinister ultra-violet light, connected with a powerful chemical battery. The current was in no way electrical in any sense the average person would understand, not even when it vibrated into action, hurting worse than the vibrations of an airplane engine, a howling force of wind coming from nowhere seen, not even the windows which were closed, and ruffling the paperwork on the desk. The switch had been thrown on below the crowning cluster of glass bulbs and forked antennae. If anyone looked at those glass bulbs, they would see the faint design making them resemble Earth in many shapes and forms.

The waves woke a thousand senses in Crawford's brain, followed by an enormous headache as he felt _the_ pineal gland GROW; the greatest sense-organ of organs was actually _stimulated_. The sensation that soon followed was faint and delicately torturing his body. Edward Pretorius was a _genius_.

He'd looked about the immense attic room; the whole place was shadowed and being lit by rays not seen by everyday life, and would no doubt bring attention to the nosy neighbor herself across the street, where she would call the cops for "disturbance" on them.

And then he saw it: an eel-like apparition floating about the air, circling one of the forks. Unsure if he was dreaming, but dazed and feeling like he was on cloud nine, he slowly approached the creature, one of the things that Edward had spoken floated through everyday life, unseen by living man until now, the creatures what man called "pure air and the blue sky".

However, he should have heeded Pretorius' advice on "if you move, they will see you as we see them."

The thing had spotted him right away and swooped down, taking a bite out of the tender flesh of his left cheek. Crawford fought it off the best he could when he made way for the switch and turned it on, and everything had returned to normal in time for him to notice the bite left over on his face, and ran to Pretorius' room to bring him upstairs to show him the new programming. A mistake he regretted from then on.

But then he never would have met Katherine. The only good thing that ever came from this mess.

But to know that she'd returned with his cousin from Switzerland with bad news was more than he could tolerate, as much as he loved Herbert. Hans Gruber was dead, heart attack in his own classroom, but the information not revealed to the public was the fact that Herbert "did things to the body" just moments after the professor died, being committed to the institution for the two months that followed. He'd been living with them for the past month since getting out of the country and had just been accepted into Miskatonic where Crawford had gone, and where Katherine had gone before. Dean Alan Halsey had been extremely cautious, but nevertheless accepted him given his brilliant record under Dr. Gruber. And now that Herbert had begun, he was ready to move out and in with someone else close to the school. None other than Dr. Halsey and his daughter, one of the best and brightest.

"You really don't have to do this." Crawford tried talking his cousin out of it. "I mean, we live near as it is. Why do you have to –"

"Because I need to continue my research."

"Your research that Dr. Gruber made you promise," Crawford stated. He still wasn't so sure about this after what happened in Zurich, if Herbert wasn't so careful. "If the dean ever finds out about unauthorized uses of medical equipment –"

"I won't," Herbert interrupted as he put the last of his books into the box. He hadn't brought much with him, just his various textbooks and guides, his clothing mostly consisting of the same white shirt, ties and black slacks like a uniform that drove Crawford insane, but then again his own happened to mostly be the old Miskatonic shirts and sweatshirts he kept, his current sweater over a collared shirt being among, so he couldn't judge. "But that doesn't mean I don't intend to prove it to Dr. Halsey and eventually be more famous than that lowdown Dr. Hill."

Katherine's silver bell laughter was heard as she came in, hair down but in a ponytail and jeans with her blouse, and helped Herbert pick up a box to carry to the van. "Oh, Dr. Hill, yes. Hardly even a genius and it's a pity no one else caught on." She scoffed. "Especially Dean Halsey. He puts up with him because he offers giant grants to the school."

Crawford laughed with her. "You still loathe him, do you?" It was rumored that Alan Halsey had an affair with a woman that produced twin daughters, separated so that he could take one given his wife couldn't have children of her own, but no one uttered a word to his daughter, Megan Halsey, who had been declared his only child to the world. When Katherine McMichaels, the other one, got into the medical school, she had been kept in separate classes from her twin whom she never met. Katherine harbored a resentment for the dean for the way he treated her and her mother, who currently lived in the retirement home. And she especially hated him for not allowing her to meet her twin, who remained oblivious about her other family.

"Him _and_ Hill together," she corrected. "And Herbert..." She sighed, wiping her brow and leaning on one hand on the trunk, after closing it. "...I'm still not sure myself about moving in with the dean. I mean, he could easily find out about whatever it is you plan to do."

"But once I show him –"

"And he could call the police on you," Crawford interjected. "He'll have you apprehended for illegal research, kick you out, and it will ruin your chances of ever finishing school and continuing your career." He took Herbert by the forearms and shook him. "I won't have what happened to Pretorius happen to you. Take your mind and shatter it in the name of science." Edward Pretorius lost his mind when succeeding in opening the portal through the pineal gland, and there was no way he would let his own flesh and blood go down that path of insanity. He could smell it miles away.

Herbert's jaw was slackened, but he quickly clamped it shut and wrenched himself free from Crawford's hands. "I won't sink to that level your dear Dr. Pretorius did. Dr. Gruber never did; he died believing his work was done because it was taken by a man he blindly trusted. He died begging me to finish what we started together. I. Will. _Honor_. That." He paused and punctured every word with his tongue behind his teeth.

Katherine interrupted them. "So, now that that's out of the way, how about I drive, boys?"

"I'll drive instead." Crawford couldn't chance her encountering her twin; who knew what would happen if she did. But he knew that it would happen someday, eventually. Keeping things covered up never helped anyone. "I'd love to have more fun chatting with you before we lose you for good," he said sarcastically, earning a roll of the eyes from Katherine. "You should at least try to get out and socialize more, too," he said, starting the engine.

Herbert sighed heavily and leaned back into the seat. "Please, not you, too."

"Well, you said it yourself: Hans tried getting you to interact with girls more, and he was right."

"My work is more important than any women. Too many distractions."

Crawford paused in the middle of getting the van started, shifted his body around full-front and faced him, studying how rigid his body was, always had been and always will be. "Katherine _never_ distracts me. She makes me feel I can actually accomplish anything. Matter of fact, she helped me get through with what happened to Edward, and that is why I love her so much and marry her next month. She cares and helps people, wouldn't even be a psychiatrist if she didn't. That's what love is, willing to give and to recieve in return." He shook his head. "But I don't suppose you know what love is. Your own mother never gave it to you, and it's no wonder you don't look at women as a result. You'll end up dying alone if you keep this up."

He knew his words hurt Herbert's feelings, and if they did, he wouldn't show it. Crawford actually felt horrible; he loved his cousin, and he'd been his only rock growing up, treating him with immense kindness that his own parents didn't. He wanted to apologize to Herbert, but was unsure how. Herbert would just shut it off either way.

And for that, Crawford wished he had the power to reverse the whole situation.

~o~

Finally, the day was over, ending better than earlier though not erasing the memory of the loss of the diabetic. The next one after was the victim of a hit-and-run, but the young woman survived. Meg found it in her to distance herself from Joan Harrod the rest of the day when she returned to her afternoon classes. Showering in the ladies' locker room, she dried off her short blonde hair as much as she could, then dressed up in an airy white blouse with a pretty floral detail down the front and jeans, spritzing herself with one of her few perfumes she had, grabbing the clear crystal bottle and releasing a spray of cool tropical flowers and musk onto her skin to get rid of the last of salty sweat and stinking dead flesh.

She kept her jewelry to a minimum, including pearl studs in her ears and the ring she always wore on the third finger of her right hand; diamonds in varying sizes were set in warm yellow gold, on three sides to make it sparkle from every angle. A birthday present from her father when she turned twelve years old, and it was a miracle it still fit after all these years.

Next, if you liked jewelry served rare, say hello to the engagement ring from Carl, combining two of Nature's rarest and most beautiful treasures in one exquisite piece of jewelry: a dark, lustrous Tahitian pearl surrounded with a ring of blue tanzanite stones. Tahitian pearls from French Polynesia and blue tanzanite from Mount Kilimanjaro. Megan laughed it off; so she was told. If she didn't know any better, it sounded like Carl recited it from the local jewelers by memory.

And finally, the necklace from her mother just before she died. It was bittersweet, each time she clasped it around her neck, the floral-inspired yellow gold Victorian charm boasting two exquisite garnets – her birthstone – elegantly enhanced by delicate seed pearl accents. It had been her mother's, then her mother before her – a family heirloom, really. But how could she have taken her life so soon just before her daughter turned fifteen years old? Megan had never been able to find the answer, not even her father would tell her _why_ she did it, other than the fact that Marianne simply "struggled with life, as we all do, and in the end, she lost."

Megan actually was never close with her mother, so that was why she had mixed emotions about wearing her grandmother's pendant, whom she remembered being fond of as a child. Marianne had the habit of constantly yelling at her over the littlest of things, or simply not speak to her, much less acknowledge her existence. And Alan as well as Carl saved her every time.

Meg never got any answers to the questions of why her mother killed herself, other than the fact that she thought herself a burden in her life. She had the feeling that her father was trying to cover something up. To what? To protect her? It had been six years, and she was old enough to deserve to know. She planned to find out someday eventually. Even if she did, then it would destroy her relationship with her father.

She went home to prepare dinner, wait for her father to come home, and while she did, she deliberated on the grant meeting Thursday. She never usually saw Carl unless her father planned a big dinner regarding a grant meeting for the college, and he'd been there for her when she got into the university, her whole future planned for her and a bright career ahead of her. Hell, both Carl _and_ her father supported her becoming a doctor, even encouraged her to get on full scholarship.

But then, as she found out too late, it meant paying a certain price for her "bright future". Leaning over the stove to get a whiff of the red sauce, just savoring the Italian spice to try to clear her mind of the ways of Puritan marriage still upheld despite the workings of modern medicine and science.

The Puritans first came to America with a simpler form of religious worship as well as stricter laws. Marriage was seen as a legal arrangement, often marrying young and remarrying quickly after the death of a spouse; not one of them married outside their own religion, either. Divorce was not an option unless the couple had fertility issues. Pre-marital pregnancy was also common if not approved of; adultery received worse punishment than that. Meg felt like she was living in an isolated world parallel to the one she actually lived in, but only she was screaming at the top of her lungs and nobody looked up. People at school admired her but didn't accept her among their crowds, others sneered and jeered at her for being the daughter of the dean and getting married to the neurosurgeon who taught their class. It was like she was left to face the world alone.

And for that, she was _sick_ of the mundane life she was living, no matter how hard she tried to mentally reject those around her who scorned her behind her back.

A screech snapped her back to life when she turned the sauce and noodles all on low, and a black buzz jumped into her arms. Laughing, she took it into a full hold and kissed the wet black nose. "Aww, Rufus, did you miss me?" She remembered in somewhere in the early weeks of her freshman year in high school when she picked him up from the alley, stray and alone, and begging her father to keep him until he finally gave in. Rufus was an energetic little black feline with vivid green eyes that were always wide, the pupils dilated as though high on drugs, which always made her and her father laugh at the use of comparison. Setting the cat down, Megan went back to preparing dinner.

She had been in the middle of setting up the dining room table when the doorbell rang. She jumped and screamed. It couldn't have been Daddy; he didn't come home till around seven, so it couldn't be him ringing the door. Dashing for it, Meg quickly turned the knob of one of the double doors and flew it open...

...only to show the face of one particular strange young man she'd met only this afternoon, who she hoped she didn't want to see again.

Nonetheless, she put a crooked smile on her face. "Oh...hi, may I help you?"

He looked her over, putting on a smile himself. A first for her since she never saw him smile besides the briefly forced one, but this time it didn't seem forced. "Your father has allowed me to move in with the two of you for the time being, Miss...Halsey," he answered, that voice doing things to her nerves again. God, what was wrong with her? She was _engaged,_ for God's sake. "If this is a bad time..."

"Oh, not at all." Inwardly, she questioned why Daddy would allow the new guy to move in with them when he didn't even know him. Didn't he have someplace else to go? "I'm sorry, Daddy never told me you were coming, Mr., uh..." She hadn't meant for it to come out that way, not the way Carl had.

He didn't seem to take it as an offense. "West. Herbert West. And he notified me soon after the grand tour. I'd have assumed he told you by now."

Or maybe he was too busy to call the house and tell her, or simply forgot to. Either way, Meg wondered why she was knowing this now at the last minute. Shit, where were her manners? "Oh, well, you want to come in?" She stepped aside for him. "If you want some dinner when Daddy comes home."

"Thank you." He nodded politely, stepping into the house with one step over the entranceway, then lingering with a couple slow motions as he took a look at the elegant but not overtly lavish suburban Halsey home, his face schooled into an expressionless mask. Meg watched him as she closed the door behind him; his aura literally screamed bizarre, yet so...

Hearing the door close, he turned his calculating gaze onto her, and she sucked in a breath. Even when he gave a small smile again, knowing what he said next. "I startled you."

"Yes, you did," Meg answered, cracking another nervous grin, shrinking under his watchful green gaze. The way he looked at her was as though he thought he'd seen her somewhere before today.

"Hmmm." Damn it, _now_ she had butterflies in her stomach. She lowered her eyes to the floor, forgetting who and where she was and only dwelling on the fact this man whom her father had let into his medical school – the same medical school SHE went to – who would be in Carl's class now, was now moving into _their_ house. His voice snapped her back to the present. "Penny for your thoughts, Miss Halsey?"

She jerked her head up. "Uh, please, Megan. Or Meg."

"Oh, well, then, Herbert." He turned his face from her then, looking around the house once more. "Would it be a trouble to show me around the house?"

He was so straightforward, wanting to get right to the point and not waste any time with the important matters at hand. Watching him walk about the house, Meg assumed, given her decision that he didn't seem to like anyone, he wasn't the social type of man. Yes, he was polite firsthand, but for how long until drama broke out? She decided to continue with the small talk; spotting Rufus coming her way, she scooped him up and carried him. "So, you've, uh, just come from Europe, right?"

"Switzerland," he answered with a quick smile her way, before turning away. Meg noticed that he looked very...smooth and professional now that he wore a long black coat, matching his hair. Nothing wrong with that sort of comment, but she wouldn't ever tell him something like _that_.

"What was Dr. Gruber like?" Rufus squirmed in her arms, meowing at the stranger in their house, but she held him tight without crushing him. "He was pretty famous."

"Yes, pretty famous." West sounded like he didn't want to talk about it anymore; it was suspicious, but she dropped the subject, as well as Rufus, who yowled when he couldn't take anymore of the mystery man and ran off to hide elsewhere. That was the way he was whenever strangers were in the house, but not like this. It was as though he sensed something was wrong with Herbert West.

"Does this building...have a basement?"

"What?" Megan stared at him, baffled altogether. Why was he asking about the basement? "Oh, uh, yeah we do. Follow me." The basement was located just beneath the stairs, and though she and her father hardly went down there, it was still kept clean and spotless, save for layers of dust on the table and sink counter. The unused shelves were covered with plastic to prevent any sort of air bacteria, too. Meg followed Herbert down, right behind him, faltering her steps only when he paused briefly to take in the sight of what he asked for. Even the sound of his tone of voice made her feel uncomfortable.

"Ohhh, yesss." It reminded her of the voice after an orgasm – she blushed furiously. Where did _that_ come from, and _why_ did she think that of all things? He stepped off the bottom step and walked further into the area. "Yes. I think this will be just fine." He paused next to the table and looked up at her; she remained right by the stairs, and he didn't seem fazed by the look she was giving him. "I have my things outside. Shall I move in now?"

She wanted to say that he ought to wait until her father came home, but at the same time she didn't want to be rude. Meg couldn't think of a better explanation without making him feel unwelcome, so she settled on, "Uh, well, I was going to say that you and Daddy still have a lot to discuss before you decide anything –"

"Oh, I've decided, and he doesn't mind." West reached into the inner pocket of the right side of his coat, pulling out what looked like his payment. "You'll never even know that I'm here, and I won't even be a trouble, either."

Experience taught her that paying in cash can mean many things: that you had something to hide that you didn't want to pay with a credit card, even when it came to renting a place for the time being. "Before I take that, you didn't say why you left Switzerland." She was well aware that Dr. Gruber died, but why didn't his prized pupil stay behind to continue his studies? Meg studied his face closely, waiting for his answer as the seconds droned on. He had the look that gave way that he hadn't expected the question, mingled with wondering _how_ to answer.

"Uh...there was no more I could learn there. The man who took over Dr. Gruber's class was hardly up to his level of brilliance, resorting to teaching only the basics instead of going beyond the boundaries, like Gruber did."

Okay, that would make sense, if it wasn't for the hesitation in his tone. There was more than what he was telling her, and she knew it. He held the wad of bills out to her. "Do we...have a deal?"

Meg's brain was still abuzz with the screams of "No, wait for Daddy to come home and talk this over", but a small part actually proved more dominant. She really had no choice in the matter, it seemed. And why did the mere presence of him have such a diabolical power over her? Only partially unaware of what she was doing, Meg reached out and took the money, shoving it into her pocket until her father came home. "Done." She barely heard her own voice.

West was smiling at her, triumphant that he got what he came here for, and it made her nerves rattle worse than they already were. "Done."

 **Meg's engagement ring is a real one in existence, the gemstones believed to be from those islands. :) And ooooh, it looks like Meg's body likes the new man very much. But what about the man himself over the dean's lovely daughter? ;D**


	5. Field of Innocence

**Herbert's thoughts on Meg were based off of Challenge #1 "Introductions" in "1001 Ways to Say This" by TheOtherMaddHatter. :) As well as my research on the anatomy of the human skull and brain from Wikipedia and other medical sites.**

Chapter Four

Field of Innocence

Herbert had been taken aback by the sight of Megan Halsey right from the start the moment he laid his eyes on her in the morgue, as much as he hid it from her father, the dean, and the woman herself. But there was also an instant...aversion, since he wasn't sociable. Fruitless chatter had never been his forte, and that was why he refused Miss Halsey's hand and answered her with a single word to study the corpse that the plagiarist Hill had been working on. He had never been one for blonde women either, given his mother was blonde. Bitchy, too, as most he knew tended to be, and that was how _she_ was. He guaranteed Megan would be, as well, making the presumption of her as soon as he'd rung the bell and the door opened to show her standing there. He had an instant disinterest for her; however, looking at her more closely as he failed to the first time, shock overcame all disgust for this particular member the opposite sex.

She looked just like _Katherine._

Correction: a _spitting image_ of Katherine.

Slowly, there was something about Meg that he also respected immediately. She had no idea that he was coming; her father must have either forgotten to tell her or simply decided to let her see for herself. Herbert couldn't shake off the fact how...lovely she was. Her hair, soft and sunny like Katherine's, with the bangs over her forehead, though bobbing short on either side of her head, her eyes blue like water – and the sky, which the warm sun shone from, which he used to look up to when he was still in his younger days, those long forgotten days – and her lips...damn it, he refused to go there. Crawford was right; what _did_ he know about women anyways? He wasn't assembled for the interference with important matters called "romance".

He didn't miss how Meg looked at him like he was an alien from outer space; foreign, strange, and not pleasant on sight. He didn't mind since he was used to it by now. But when it came to her coming out to help him bring his things into the house and show him to his room, her reaction changed entirely when her eyes fell on Crawford, catching the resemblance between them.

"Oh, hi there. Meg Halsey." She held her hand out to him, which he shook with a nervous smile. "You must be...?" She looked Herbert's way for some extra help, but he wasn't in the mood for anymore introductions.

"Dr. Crawford Tillinghast," he answered upon seeing that Herbert wasn't going to speak, giving a nervous smile in exchange. "Physicist. Herbert and I are cousins."

"Nice to meet you." Her expression changed back to suspicion and confusion, gaze darting back and forth between the two men. "Wait, if you are cousins, then Mr. West, why aren't you living with him?"

"He _was_ living with me and my fiancée, Katherine, but now he doesn't want to burden us anymore." Herbert inwardly seethed at the mild humiliation. He reached to pick up his suitcase which carried his clothing, turning and walking back into the house. Footsteps followed him, and it sure wasn't Megan. "See why I'm not so sure about this?" Crawford hissed under his breath. "You see how she resembles _Katherine_?"

"Correction, a spitting image. So what is your point?" There was only one idea he could think of, and Crawford was about to answer for him.

"The point is that she –"

"You guys need help?"

"No, we're fine!" Crawford called back politely, before turning back and lowering his voice as he helped Herbert haul the next box, heavier, up the stairs. "She can't know this, Herbert, because Dr. Halsey won't allow it."

Herbert's ears perked up; now things had just gotten interesting. Crawford wasn't happy about him moving in with the dean and his daughter because of a secret that the man was keeping _hidden._ Especially since Katherine was somehow involved. These matters never concerned him, but that did not mean he wouldn't honor someone's wishes. "So how exactly do she and Katherine both fit into all of this?"

"She's Katherine's twin sister. Separated at birth, born from an affair Halsey had with Katherine's mother, because his wife was unable to have kids of her own, so he told her what he'd done and got custody of one daughter while the other was kept by Erin McMichaels. Katherine told me all of this herself. She went to Miskatonic, but never once met her sister, who doesn't know any of this."

Herbert processed all of this the whole time his cousin helped him bring in the last of his belongings into the house. Katherine and Megan, twins...never meeting each other...now he saw why Crawford was so hesitant about all of this. Herbert saw this as wrong, one of the agreements he and his cousin shared. Covering things up until they blew up worse than they were in the first stage was a big no-no in his book. But Dean Halsey wouldn't let his daughter meet her sister, keep this hidden from her; how _dare_ he keep a big secret from her? It gave him a good reason to despise the man on a level, but not as much as he despised Dr. Hill.

Whose class he would start tomorrow morning. He certainly looked forward to it, he thought sarcastically. And much to his chagrin – and enthusiasm – he looked forward to Megan sharing it with him.

~o~

If there was anything about the mysterious but guiltily attractive Herbert West that Megan Halsey learned about in one night, it was that not only was he asocial, but he didn't so much as bring up any relatives. This was when she met his _cousin,_ physicist Dr. Crawford Tillinghast, whom she remembered hearing about on the news regarding a Dr. Edward Pretorius who died a little more than four months ago after the failure of an invention of his known as the Resonator, claimed to stimulate the pineal gland for access to another dimension. He was branded insane, and not long after took his own life. His psychiatrist was none other than Katherine McMichaels, once again seeking to cure him of his "insanity" by being present along with his traumatized assistant, Crawford Tillinghast, along with the authorities. They revealed that the experiment worked, and Pretorius was NOT insane, but it became too dangerous that it had to be destroyed.

Meg also read that Tillinghast had abandoned the "search for parallel dimension travels" and resorted solely on the behavior of the material of the whole universe as a whole. And what surprised her: he was _engaged_ to Dr. McMichaels, who had also been his therapist after the traumatic suicide of his employer. See, that had been always how she viewed "love at first sight". Someone who got you through the best and worst of times, never chose anything else above you; her father had long ago brushed it off, saying that marriage was a religious affair. Well, if that was the case, then _why_ would he put his daughter into a marriage with another man who wasn't Puritain?

She already knew the answer, which she brought up many times in a row: Carl was a longtime friend and colleague of Alan Halsey, and had always been there for her when she needed it. But that didn't mean she ever wanted to MARRY him.

She was always the first to show up in class before anyone else, as Daddy always drilled it into her that being on time was important, and being there earlier than normal always made a good impression. But that always meant a "word" with Dr. Hill. "Oh, good morning, Megan," he said, coming out from the closet in full surgeon gear, from the long teal gown and white apron, hat in place, and the tray of clean tools in both hands. "Had a good night's sleep for today, I imagine." He looked her over and smiled, seeing that the white lab coat all students were required with "left everything to the imagination", save for the top partially opened to show her black t-shirt. As a child, she never really paid his gazes mind, but by the time she was fourteen and aware of such things, she was constantly aware how he would look at her for an extended period of time.

"Your father has told me how you asked for recommendation for the scholarship." Carl smiled. "I'm pleased you asked, since you are one of the best, young and most promising. What do you say we discuss it Thursday over dinner?" Well, why not? Daddy had already asked him to come anyways. "I also have something for you by then," Carl added with a smile. "Something that I've been meaning to give you for awhile now, my dear."

Her stomach lurched a bit, threatening to released the contents from her stomach she had this morning. "Should I know now?" she asked with a cracked grin that felt awkward to her senses.

Carl chuckled and shook his head, reaching out to pinch her cheek gently. "If I told you now, it wouldn't be a surprise."

The loud noise of the students entering snapped her back to life, and she quickly moved away from him to sit near the back like she always did. And when she did, she found out _who_ she sat next to but only a seat behind. "Mr. West," she said politely to the back of his head, his black hair gleaming under the light. Meg wondered how come she never noticed such things in her life. Then he turned around upon hearing his name; seeing her face, he gave a short half-smile.

"Miss Halsey, what a surprise."

Her face heated, but she hoped she wasn't red; it would be too embarrassing for him to see that, and if he ever did, she wanted to crawl somewhere and die. She'd driven them both to school earlier this morning, before this class, and as soon as they'd arrived and departed from her Chevy, he'd taken off without a word, eager to get the day started without so much as another word to her. It had been extremely rude, but at the same time, she didn't want to push him into a conversation; in the car, he hadn't even so much as begun one himself, allowing her to ask him a few questions herself, such as:

Would you tell me what Dr. Gruber was like? _He was a good man, hardly one you'll find anywhere else._

Is there anything you enjoy doing in particular? _Not exactly. I prefer studying._

Favorite color? _Green._ And when she told him hers was red, he laughed sardonically. _Red...makes me think of PMS. How ironic for a woman to like such a color._ That wasn't even funny, much less a joke, and for him to insult her femininity like that made her struggle for a snarky comeback and failed.

He'd stopped her from another attempt to pry into him with a hard look that chilled her blood, and it made her stop all inquiries altogether. Meg didn't bother him anymore after that, and by the time they arrived at school, he'd taken off with his books and all without another look at her. She'd watched him go, feeling half guilty. Silently wishing she could mend things.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," Carl said, positioning the gurney holding the the corpse brought out from the gigantic freezer beside the table which had the tools laid out. Upon seeing Herbert West, obviously enough, he gave a short "behave yourself" look. Megan looked down at her notebook and inhaled slowly, then let it out just as slow. This was going to be one hell of an interesting first day for West, and she could just smell it as much as the stink of the corpse.

"Now, before we begin," Carl said to the class as he picked up the scalpel, "I would like everyone to meet our new student, Mr. Herbert West, who came all the way from Zurich, Switzerland." He nodded to the new face among them, but everyone looked at him as though he was a UFO and immediately turned their attention back to their professor at whatever look he was giving them. Hill smiled again. "Well, then, onward to the task at hand." Already Meg and the others covered all of this, but then again it had to be for new faces entering. But it was as though Herbert didn't know any of this, and he'd studied under one of the most famous scientists of all time! He wasn't stupid; that much she knew as well.

Meg had all of this in memory, and in her notes before her, so she mentally recited everything she knew as her fiancée intoned. "You make an incision at the base of the skull..." Said base was the most lesser part of the skull, composed of the endocranium which resided at the top of the spinal cord and had several openings for the cranial nerves, and the lower parts of the skull roof. "...cutting away enough of the fascia." The layer of fibrous tissue surrounding the muscles, blood vessels and nerves, binding some structures together while allowing others to smooth over each other. The overall procedure was known as the craniotomy, creating a bone flap in the skull through which the brain can be accessed.

Ironically enough, the surgery itself was carried out by a neurosurgeon, who may or may not have training in skull surgery as well as brain surgery.

"And then grasping firmly with both hands," Carl continued, doing so himself and taking both sides of the dark hair and the skin it covered, baring and gritting his teeth at the same time with his actions, "you pull the skin forward over the head." And there it was: the human skull, off-white but pink from the blood, and blotched with the correct shade of red. "Very much like peeling a large orange," Carl said inadvertently, making everyone laugh, including Meg herself. However, she noted that West was the only one who didn't laugh. Jesus, didn't he _ever_ possess some sense of humor?

If Hill noticed how his newest student, the one who already gave him a bad first impression, never showed any sign of appeal for the humor, then he wouldn't say anything. He picked up the next tool. "Once the skull is plainly visible, you take the bone saw, and you cut around the perimeter." The sound of the device itself made her ears and brain dizzy as time droned on in the class, getting louder with each buzz through the hard bone structure. When it finally ended, a hollow silence filled her ears, vibrating with each second that passed. "And there you have it, ladies and gentlemen," Carl announced, pulling the skull back and exposing, as he stated, the human brain.

Meg held her breath; though she was used to these things, she still possessed a sensitive stomach. "Once the brain stem of an individual – I'm talking about the reticular activating system for breathing, sleeping and motivation –" Carl set down the next tool that loosened the organ's "cords" that held it in the skull. "– heart regulations, respiratory center...once these activities cease, the brain can only survive an additional six to twelve minutes" He paused to look Meg's direction, except it wasn't _her_ he was looking at. " _Six_ to twelve minutes."

Meg found herself looking at the back of West's head again. No sign of movement, nothing. He was good at keeping himself poised and stoic. Who knew what he was thinking about.

"Until..." Hill held up the brain with both hands. "...brain death brings about an irreversible conclusion."

Her attention snapped back to the man of her interest, hearing the snap of a pencil into two, also getting the attention of the entire class. The gesture was meant as angry and in complete disagreement, earning a look of discontent from Carl. But West looked him on with the look of a puppy as he pulled out another pencil from the inside of his lab coat. Gripping her own between her thumb and forefinger, Meg silently wished she wasn't so "psychic" half the time.

Carl then disregarded his ungrateful pupil and continued his lecture. "We all want to retain our personalities and some idyllic afterlife. We all _pray_ –" He said the word with a drop of sarcasm. "– for some miracle, some...drug. Potion. Pill." He placed the brain inside the Petri dish, his eyes still on where she and West sat, but now she couldn't tell which of them he was watching. "Perhaps, though...it takes something else. Perhaps it takes desire. An obsessive desire."

There was something now with the way he said _that._ It took on a darker tone, a tone of passion. This was seldom she saw in him in any of his lectures, whilst daily he would speak casual, matter-of-fact, and of-the ordinary-everyday-life. However, this time was more than that, and Megan couldn't read him. Because of this, she nearly lost focus of the speech. "Perhaps it takes –"

Once more, he was interrupted. West had snapped his pencil a second time. Meg sucked in a breath at the sight, holding it in at the aggressive anger on Carl's face. He struggled to keep himself under control, knowing he couldn't take his whole rage out on him in front of the entire class, because once he went too far, he would be in trouble with the disciplinary board. "We will discuss the location of the will in the brain structure at another time," he said instead. "Mr. West, I suggest you get yourself a pen!" He moved to snap his latex gloves off.

"Class dismissed."

Herbert West refused to follow Carl Hill like a weak, whining wet dog. But while Meg admired that about him, she worried he would end up in way over his head if he went too far in challenging his professor. The other students prepared to rise, but West was the first to be out of his seat, setting his books down and striding Hill's way. Meg watched him, staying where she was.

"How can you teach such _drivel?_ " West seethed, hands in his pockets. "These people are here to learn, and you're closing their minds before they even have a chance!" The students watched on the debate, some interested, others simply shocked that their "new boy" had it in him to rise up to the teacher. Now that she thought of it, Megan felt perhaps if he thought he was better, he could assume the role of teacher if his story in Switzerland was that perfect.

He finished putting the tools away and tossing his gloves down. "What are you here for, Mr. West?" He walked past an extremely impassioned Herbert West, who did not back down and continued his tirade of accusations.

"You know you should have stolen more of Dr. Gruber's ideas, then at least you'd _have_ ideas!" he yelled, only to be silenced by Hill's bellow of his name.

"MR. WEST!" Never in three years of schooling did Meg ever see him _this_ angry, but she'd also never seen one of his students stand up to him the way this one did. Silence filled the room; Meg's heart pumped faster than normal, and she could hear it in her ears. Now that her fiancée's back was halfway turned to her so she saw half his face, it was namely West's face she could see well, and oh, boy, he was fuming. But why did it have to look so...

"It's going to be a pleasure to fail you," Carl hissed, turning and leaving the classroom in a rush, just as Dr. John Riley himself was coming in.

"Dr. Hill?" he called after him, only receiving a huff. He looked back at the class. "I heard shouting all the way down the hall. Did something happen?"

"Oh, nothing much, Doctor," West replied smoothly, putting on a small smile, gathering his books and being the first one out. Stopping right in front of him, he added, "He's only a bit short of temper this morning, it seems. A meltdown in his old age, nothing to be alarmed about."

Riley looked like he was about to say something, but West was already gone. Staring after him, baffled, he shook his head and looked back to the class. "Professor Hill ended class early as a result," a girl Meg had chemistry with, Miranda Ross, spoke up. "It's like New Guy said, just a meldown from pressure." There were a few giggles from the other girls, quieted so the doctor wouldn't catch on.

Now that class ended early, Meg was unsure of what to do now, but she had a feeling that Carl had gone back to his office to take his rage and frustration – and humiliation – out on anything in his office, or maybe go straight to her father to report West for misbehavior. Either way, she didn't want him to get West in trouble on his first day of school despite the fact it was none of her business. Her subconscious was asking her why she cared when she barely knew the man, but she ignored it until she found herself outside Dr. Hill's office, hearing his shouting very well through the cracked glass of the window, below his name and above the doorknob.

Yes, he was complaining to _her father_ over the phone. "Alan, what were you thinking about allowing that little runt into my class, much less into this school?! He's arrogant, disrespectful, and above all, INTOLERANT!" He paused to listen to the response. "Give him time? _Time,_ my friend, is _not_ something that ignorant child deserves. He must be removed from this school _IMMEDIATELY!_ "

Megan was mostly angry that he would dare call West a child. Her blood was boiling – her inner voice _was_ right; what was it with her that she had to be fascinated by West so much? – and she was tempted to just leave. And what Carl said next drove her to finally do it: "No, Alan, I will not calm down. I have just been humiliated by Hans Gruber's pet monkey who shows no respect for his superiors just because he was under the tutelage of a 'great' man now dead in the ground as he should be."

She stormed off into the opposite direction down the hall. She needed to clear her head, and her next class wasn't for another hour, so she went outside for some air, sitting down on the bench and smelling the cool September air. Finally, clean, pure air compared to rot in the morgue. Now she could answer the voice in her head that persisted on her interest in Herbert West, trying to figure out how to help a total stranger. Maybe it was because she was helping someone out of her own sense of righteousness, but West's air was so thick she couldn't even read him well enough. That meant the more secrets to hide, the more she was determined to find out.

Perhaps she could find the chance to sneak into her father's office in the future and uncover whatever it was she didn't know about Herbert West while he was in Switzerland.

Leaning her head back, she stared up at the sky and thought back to the day that she first met Dr. Carl Hill.

~o~

 _The Halsey home was flooded with various guests, a portion being the staff from Miskatonic University run by the patriarch of the house, another consisting of little ones from the elementary school and their parents. This odd-looking but necessary fusion was here for a reason, and it was to celebrate the sixth birthday of Dean Halsey's little daughter._

 _And still in her bedroom she was, with her mother who was getting her ready for her party, fussing and complaining of fidgeting when she tried fixing the child's hair, brushing the pale golden locks back into a high ponytail, while the little girl would cry out that her mother was hurting her and asked her to be gentle. Her mother would scoff it off. "If you don't stop squirming, young lady, it won't hurt as much."_

 _Another voice was heard from the doorway. "Marianne, not today. Not on her birthday," he scolded, which soon changed into a smile. "My baby girl looks pretty today."_

 _She gave him a proud smile in the mirror without turning around all the way. "Thanks, Daddy. Is everybody here?"_

 _"Everyone is waiting for the angel of the hour." Alan Halsey nodded, checking his watch then. "Is there anything else to get ready with?" He looked his wife over in her short black lace dress, smiling at how beautiful she always looked, however no longer with the longing he once had, which his daughter was too young to understand. She couldn't know of these troubles yet...or anytime later in her life, only for her own protection. But protection cost his wife her mental stability. Which was why she treated their daughter the way she did. Little Megan then hopped out of the stool and ran towards her father, wrapping her arms around his leg in a death grip, not wanting to let go. He laughed and picked her up, carrying her piggy-back style, much to the disapproval of Marianne behind him._

 _The crowd cheered and sang "Happy birthday" to the child as soon as she and her father appeared at the top of the stairs. He carried her all the way down and set her on her own feet as soon as they were at the bottom. At every birthday celebration and every dinner party hosted by her father, the dean of the medical college, Megan Halsey was always complemented by the ladies. At age six, she was cuter than any angel in every living art form. Her face bore the roundness of youth_ – _in her cheeks and her little rosebud mouth_ – _save for a chin gracefully defined. She already had a long mane of hair of pale liquid gold, now in a high ponytail, bangs bobbing over the palest blue eyes ever seen. Her attire for today was a soft, airy white top with a subtle neckline and a pair of floral shorts, for she was only a child and didn't need anything too lavish or over-the-top show._

 _The Halsey girl was rumored to not be the dean's only child, even though she was declared so. Rumors, after all, were almost never proven true. Even nobody questioned the mother, whom everyone suspected suffered an anxiety disorder that she kept impressively under control, but they had no idea what went on in the house when nobody was around, save for the father himself. Who was always there to save his child from his wife's verbal torment._

 _The festivities went on without incident, for Megan was spoiled with presents, playing with her playmates from school and dancing with her father_ – _he would pick her up and spin her in the air, making her scream with laughter and earn it from the other guests watching_ – _including one man who had been by her father's side the whole course of the party. He was an older gentleman, somewhere in his late thirties, with brown hair fading gray, but he was always smiling especially when it came to him and her coming across each other's paths. He told her that he worked with and was friends with her daddy, but she couldn't remember his name given that when you're a child, you're bound to forget things like that._

 _Little did she know that she would meet him again after the party was over._

 _She saw him again as soon as everyone was leaving. Her friends were going home with their parents, and Daddy was thanking all of his friends and employees for coming. She was watching from the kitchen doorway, fruit punch in a plastic cup in hand, seeing how he and her daddy would laugh over something she couldn't understand, but there was something about the strange man that made her feel so..._

 _She didn't pay attention when she turned around and bumped into her mother's leg, her fingers loosening on the cup by accident and dropping onto the kitchen floor, red spilling over white tile like blood. Blood made her sick, especially when she would accidentally be cut and taken to the emergency room. Oh, Mommy would be angry this time! And Daddy was right there with his friend, both men turning their attention to the kitchen doorway when Marianne seized the child by her wrist and dragged her into the kitchen, slapping her in the face and making her scream. "Please, Mommy, no! Mommy, it was an accident!"_

 _"You stupid brat! How many times have I told you to watch where you're going?!" She roughly turned the child around to where she spilled her drink leftover from the party. "Just look at what you've DONE!"_

 _"Marianne!" Her attention shifted to where her husband and his colleague stood, Alan's face a mask of pure anger at their daughter's day ending badly with only a little accident that any child could do. He stalked over and pulled his wife away from Megan, who was now on the floor and crying, head bowed in shame at what she'd done. "Marianne, she's a little girl, and it's her birthday for God's sake! You did not have to go and hit her, and in front of our guest!" He turned his head to where his friend was, picking up the little girl into his arms and looking his way, eyes silently asking if he could get her out of here and away from her mother. Alan nodded before turning back to continue berating his wife._

 _"There, there, now," the man cooed to the sniffling little one, taking her out the front door and sitting on the top step of the porch. She buried her face into his shoulder, happy for the warmth of someone else beside her mother. "It's okay; don't cry, child. I'm here." He held her for awhile until she stopped, her eyes drained of tears, but her eyes were red. Eyes blue as the cloudless sky, rimmed with red of pain. So innocent yet had to endure such unwanted agony, he thought sympathetically. "Is your mommy always so mean to you?" he asked gently._

 _She looked him over as though trying to figure out if she could trust this stranger. "It's alright, you can trust me," he assured her. "I'm a friend of your daddy, remember?"_

 _The child nodded then. "Yes." Her voice was so soft he barely heard her. "I don't know why, though, sir. She just does. Doesn't matter if it's an accident or not, but Daddy is always there."_

 _He chuckled; she had such excellent manners, using "yes, ma'am" and "yes, sir", as he heard her today. Alan always talked to him about how his daughter was his pride and joy, polite and a proper little lady, even presenting a picture of her as a toddler_ – _which he still kept in his wallet so as to not forget about her. There was something about her that warmed his spirit, that made him want to meet her for so long. And now, here they were, and he was angry_ – _no, FURIOUS_ – _that Alan's wife had the_ audacity _to lay a hand on her on her birthday of all days. He knew Marianne Halsey's reasons for doing so, but the child couldn't know no matter how much she deserved to know._

 _"I'm sorry, sir, but I forgot your name." She giggled nervously at her bad memory, but it amused him. He laughed and brushed his finger across her cheek tenderly._

 _"I do not mind, Megan dear. A child your age can forget these things just as easy half the time. The name is Dr. Hill, but I would like you to call me Carl for now on." He smiled down at her face rapt with curiosity. "And I want you to confide in me whatever problems you are having."_

 **There you have it: the epic Herbert vs. Hill scene as well as how young Meg first met Carl Hill. :) It's obvious he's been obsessed with her ever since she was a child; there were pictures in that file he kept of her in the movie of black-and-white quality, indicating sixties' time or so, since this story is set around the same year the movie was released in 1985.**


	6. Disappear

Chapter Five

Disappear

"Herbert, you're not seriously thinking about using her for this," Crawford was saying over the phone. Katherine stood by him, her ears sharp enough to catch parts of what Herbert was telling him.

 _"...perfect for this. Hardworking...access...bodies..."_

"She's the dean's daughter!" Crawford nearly shouted, forcing her to step back. Realizing this, that he was talking about Megan Halsey, she gulped and nervously fingered the knot of her robe as she listened to the man she was getting married to in a month argue with his cousin, soon to be her family. She was honored to be accepted into the family, however Herbert was another story to it altogether. His own mother didn't love him whilst his father let her get away with it, but Crawford had always been there for him. She liked to think that Isabel West was the sole reason for Herbert's cutting of emotional and physical ties from all women; she mentally damned her future aunt-in-law for it all. It was her fault then that she couldn't keep her legs crossed...but then Herbert wouldn't be here if she did.

Crawford continued his side of the argument, snapping her back. "She may have access to what you're trying to do, but do you honestly think you can trust her with this? Suppose she turned you in to the police, or worse – tell her father; he'd be sure to expel you and ruin any chances you have of a future. How will you expect to continue there?"

She faintly heard him say that he heard him say that before, but he wouldn't allow her to turn him in unless he had leverage against her to keep her to him. Crawford laughed sarcastically. "Yes, real smart, cousin. But if this gets out of hand and heads in the direction I fear, don't say I wasn't right. Keep me in touch." He was the first to hang up the line; staring at the phone, he sighed and scratched the back of his neck. Katherine didn't like that anymore; it was supposed to be _her_ job to keep him comfortable while he made her happy any other way. Her fingers and nails worked their magic on his tense muscles, making him groan and almost arch his head back, making her stop.

"Don't...stop," he begged, but she smirked at the tremors his voice sparked in her body. She leaned upward so she could whisper in his ear, and for him to smell her warm and seductive fragrance – citrus, vanilla, musk and woods.

"Let's go to bed," Katherine suggested, taking him away from the phone in the hallway and in the opposite direction to their shared bedroom.

He sat down at the foot, staring past her to nothing in particular, even though the computer desk and said equipment was there. "I'm running out of things to do, Kathy," he spoke dully. "I mean, how is he going to know how to save lives if he's never felt real love, real emotion? We saved him from the asylum in Switzerland, but it didn't stop him from these...mad theories."

"Facts," Katherine corrected him, loosening the bow in the front of her blue robe. "Remember Pretorius believed the same?"

He looked her square in the eyes. "And look where it got him. A shattered mind and him taking his own life." He sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose. "But Herbert...God, I feel out of my mind. And I know it's not the expanded pineal gland responsible."

She laughed. "Isn't it ringing out the warning bells?" Demonstrating this, she opened her robe to show the sweet and luxurious nightshirt she wore beneath – lovely pale pink satin with black polka dots beautifully accented with elegant black lace. The hem of the shirt ended mid-thigh. Katherine removed her glasses, given she didn't want to see Crawford; she'd already seen him before, that old Miskatonic University t-shirt fitting his strong, lean body in all the right places, adding to the arousal forming. He was aroused, too, showing clearly through his pajama pants.

He looked her over with a crooked grin. "It certainly is." He backed onto the bed, and she followed him, crawling over his body and kissing him hungrily. Months ago, under the influence of the Resonator, with the pain of the gland expanding, resulting in a massive migraine, came the pleasure of heated desire that she'd never felt before in her life. Katherine had never once been interested in men or boys, putting helping other people above anything else. Edward Pretorius' "genius invention" had released the inner bad girl inside her she'd never cared to acknowledge before.

Pretorius had been a bad boy himself, from what the authorities uncovered in his house, including her and Crawford's good friend in the force, Detective Leroy "Bubba" Brown: "This guy was into some weird shit", he'd said, upon showing Pretorius whipping a woman in black leather, BDSM gear, on a videotape he'd recorded himself. She didn't care about his private life, but it sickened her. Crawford even brought up how Pretorius often brought various women home, in his own words:

 _"He used to bring beautiful women here. Make them fine meals, drink fine wine, listen to some music...but it always ended in screaming. I would lie there and just listen to them screaming."_

His hands unbuttoned the front of her shirt to show that she wore absolutely nothing underneath. His eyes darkened hungrily at the sight, one hand moving to gently cup her right breast, stroking the nipple until it hardened. Katherine moaned at the sensations that shot from her breast and moved to its partner, then down south straight to her groin. She had never been with a man in her life, so no one ever made her feel the way Crawford made her feel. His erection, still covered by his pants, pressed against her sex, parting the front open to get some of her hot moisture. She shrugged off the rest of her nightshirt onto the bed and went to removing Crawford's t-shirt so that they went and got busy.

If there was ever one good thing about the Resonator, it was her sexual awakening that ultimately led to _this_.

~o~

This had always been her room: floral designs and antique furniture transforming the room into sheer feminism. The cupboards provided handy storage, and their delicate designs caught the eye. A classic French-style headboard of the bed as well as the rustic furniture completed the look. The whole time Meg changed into her dress for the dinner tonight – how the days fly by so fast – she listened to Beethoven's infamous _Fur Elise_ on the musical angel egg that had been a seventh birthday gift from Carl.

The musical object itself was elegant, with frosting-style details decorating the exquisite egg with an ethereal angel inside; she held a rose bouquet as the famous piece by the world-renowned composer himself played. It was ironic how the inspiration may have come from a former student of Beethoven whom he proposed marriage to only to be turned down by her for an Austrian nobleman.

If only Megan had the strength to do that to Carl.

She'd been engaged to Carl Hill since the day she graduated high school, and her life pretty much took an unexpected and unwanted turn from there. She'd always wanted to be a doctor since she was a child, after Carl introduced her to basic medicine and tending sometime after their first meeting, due to her childlike curiosity and hunger for understanding how to save a life. Her father had been thrilled at the time, but her mother was unsupportive, only standing by and watching. From then on, she'd put aside all the things that the other girls her age put their minds and bodies to: dating and boys. Meg had always thought that her career and dreams were more important than some guy, Daddy and Carl drilling it into her early on that young men only wanted one thing and one thing only. So, yeah, the answer to that one unanswered question was that she was a virgin. Twenty years old and a virgin.

Looking around, though, at the other young women around her, she couldn't help but feel jealous. How could they walk through life being happy with a guy nearly their own age, younger, or maybe only a few years older when she was unwillingly getting married to a man old enough to be her grandfather? She wanted to simply crawl somewhere and disappear just like that.

Meg looked herself over in the tall mirror that hung on the back of her door, inside her room for her privacy's wishes. The dress was black, sparkling, dramatic and stunning with deep magenta orchid flowers printed, the beading detail of the neckline and waistline magical, and the cut of the skirt flirty. Her earrings, necklace and bracelet had a stunning array of passionately colored gems, from hot pink to the sweetest blush. She didn't need any makeup, as Marianne told her it debased women, but she was naturally pretty anyways, except for a pinch of the cheeks and a clear gloss on her lips for shine, after a brush of her short blonde locks.

Finally, Meg spritzed herself with the fragrance she saved for special occasions. Picking up the clear bottle fashioned with a smart, exquisite black, green, and silver Egyptian lotus design, a delicate and fresh wave of jasmine, Italian bergamot, orange blossom, rose and mimosa flower washed over her skin. She was ready to go out there and get dinner ready before Carl arrived.

However, she did _not_ expect to encounter Herbert West as soon as she took her first step out into the upstairs hallway.

~o~

"Hello, Herbert," she said nervously, lingering in the doorway, her hands on either side of the doorframe to steady her balance.

He looked her up and down calculatingly, one corner of his mouth twitching. He had just returned from the morgue, busy pushing bodies around due to his apparent "imperfection", but the doing had all been Hill's. Nobody cared that he worked with a renowned scientist in Switzerland; sheer hypocrisy. The conversation with Crawford two days before still rang in his brain; his cousin just wouldn't see his cause any more than the doctors in the Zurich Institute did, namely that grand-skeleton Giger. Katherine did, but not Crawford.

He had "access" to bodies, but the nature of his task was not required with privacy for his testing of the serum for the first subject since poor Gruber. He was always either supervised or having people nearby. If anybody discovered him if it went wrong again, then he was done for. It would mean back to an insane asylum or perhaps prison for "desecrating human bodies".

Herbert had not expected to meet up with Megan again; they almost never spoke to each other during or after school despite living in the same house. He didn't mind it, but somehow he found himself getting mildly used to her despite her constant attempts to pry into his past; he would often shoot her down with a glare or give her simple silence, and she would stop altogether. Whether she stopped asking him questions completely was either out of respect or self-protection from verbal blows. He didn't care.

But then again, it felt a little nice for someone trying to start small talk, ignoring the proud voice at the back of his head as he found himself looking her over, feeling the heat in his blood, a sensation he didn't recall feeling in his life. It was dangerous, but it also felt so good. His subconscious was warning him, reminding him to keep away from dangerous waters, but the blood was already rushing south, making him half-hard as he thought how truly beautiful Meg was. Her shimmering golden hair barely went past the end of her head; he saw why Hill was so keen on achieving her. It was no secret amongst the whispers of his fellow students that Megan Halsey, the dean's daughter and one of the most hard-working, dedicated young women, was engaged to marry Dr. Carl Hill. These matters were also of little concern to Herbert, yet he couldn't help but feel disgusted. A woman of such tranquility, beauty and brains betrothed to a man nearly three times her age? One West held in great contempt for? Bah.

"Is something wrong?" Herbert perked his eyes back up to her face from staring down at the floor without turning his head down.

"Oh, yes. Of course." He nodded, silence following, tensing the air. Then the sound of her father called them both.

"Megan? Mr. West? Carl will be here soon."

"Damn it, I need to get dinner started." Meg began to walk past him, and Herbert watched her go. Then she paused at the top of the stairs, looking behind her over her shoulder at him. "Are you coming for dinner?"

He scoffed. "The less I have to see of that pompous plagiarist outside class, the better," he answered, keeping his voice low from her father but loud enough for her to hear. She frowned, but before she could answer, Dean Halsey called for her again. She went down the stairs then, her skirt flying out behind her, shifting up slightly to show her creamy, toned legs. Again, there _that_ goes. Herbert sneered and turned to make way for his room when the dean called up to him.

"Be downstairs when Dr. Hill arrives...and be on your best behavior tonight," he warned. Herbert rolled his eyes

"I will if HE does." If Halsey heard, then he either chose to ignore it or simply say nothing. Arriving at his room, the door cracked open, he was greeted by a meowing buzz of black jumping at him. The sudden attack made him freeze in his tracks. That damn infernal beast...he had no idea why anyone would tolerate such bothersome creatures. He never owned a pet in his life; his parents never allowed him or Crawford to have any animals in the house. They left messes and were too wild to handle.

He shrugged off his coat and hung it in the closet along with his other clothes, all of them the same as the ones he wore currently. People often teased him about wearing the same thing over and over, but he gave no damn; he felt comfortable and relaxed. In college, nobody but Dr. Gruber said anything, though it was like he developed telepathy when he heard them say so from afar: _"There he is in the same suit and tie from yesterday...I bet he sleeps in them AFTER he screws them."_

Herbert walked over to his fridge against the wall to his left, the opposite end of the bed. Opening the door, he smiled at the vial of glowing green re-agent. His prize, his hard work, his baby...what Hans made him promise to continue, like the king dying and begging his son or successor to carry on his work for him. It was his greatest find and no other. Carl Hill had been responsible for the death of his beloved mentor, but once Herbert perfected it, it would be _HE_ who had a place in the Hall of Fame, knock Hill off the throne.

~o~

Dinner consisted of steak, lobster and potatoes. Nothing too fancy but nice enough for a grant committee meeting. Since the death of Marianne before she turned fifteen, it had been Meg taking care of her father and the house, not that she ever minded, but to be a little housewife at the innocent age of fourteen?

Carl would be here soon, but making dinner was just wrapping up. She brought the steaks from the pan and onto the four plates, though she wondered if West would be able to take such a fine meal. Her father was just getting out the fine red Cabernet he saved for special occasions, and that, too, made her curious about West. Typical, average geniuses, as Daddy put it, tended to not consume alcohol or drugs if they knew the risks of addiction and the likes. But one for a fancy dinner once in awhile never hurt anybody.

Rufus came prancing into the dining room, meowing a greeting as he zoomed past her. Laughing, Meg turned and watched as he vanished into the collection of potted greenery in the kitchen. Rufus, lively as ever, running and hiding, though he seemed to be doing that more often now that Herbert West was in the house. She wasn't sure if he sensed something off about the new housemate as she did or if he was just simply being himself.

The doorbell ringing snapped her attention. She had the potatoes saved for last when she made way for the doors, opening the left to show none other than Dr. Carl Hill. She smiled. "Hello, Carl."

He smiled in return, teeth bared as he looked her over. "Well, hello, Meg. Beautiful as ever. And Alan," he added, now looking past her shoulder. She didn't have to turn her head to know her father had come up to her side.

"Carl, glad you came." Alan reached around Megan to shake his hand. "Listen, sweetie, why don't you go grab our guest and bring him down?"

She was glad to get away if only for a few minutes, faintly catching Carl asking her father who the new guest was, but she never heard the answer as she now stood in front of Herbert's room. Meg knocked twice hesitantly, waiting as seconds passed, shifting from foot to foot. What was taking him so long to simply answer a _door_ of all things?

"Hmm." The single word warmed her blood and only increased her heart rate. "As I told you before, the less I have to see of that plagiarist, the better." The hostile comment brought forth her worries of drama at the dinner table, and Meg turned to leave...only to find the feel of a hand wrapping around her wrist. Warm tingles coursed through her nervous system, and she looked down to see that it was _his_ hand, his fingers strong despite apparent limited strength...and warm as toast instead of chilled as a cadaver. He could have been classified as one because of how deathly white he was. His venomous green eyes bore into her wide blues. "And keep your cat out of my room."

Meg realized that he'd left his door opened enough for Rufus to sneak in and explore. "I'm...sorry," she stuttered, looking down. "Rufus just wanted to get to know you." She stopped the sooner she looked back up into his emotionless eyes. She didn't like the way he was looking at her _or_ the way he looked down at her pet.

"He might have a better chance at that as long as he does not intrude in my room after today," he threatened as he released her arm and walked past her, his shiny black shoes hitting the steps loudly. Meg realized he'd abandoned his suit jacket, now just in the white shirt and tie, the sleeves rolled up to the elbows to expose more of his pale skin and disproportionately thin arms...attractive all in one. Mildly dazed, Meg followed him downstairs to where her father and Carl were now in the dining room over the fine meal set up. Alan smiled at them both as soon as they entered. Carl did the same when he saw her again; however, it changed once he saw _who_ was next to her.

"Alan never directly told me that he had allowed you to move in with him and his daughter, Mr. West," he stated coolly.

West returned the look. "I never imagined he would." Meg held her breath as she listened back and forth between the two men until she silently thanked her father for stepping in and silencing them both.

"All right, you two," he patronized them as if they were both children. Megan laughed quietly, Herbert glared at him silently, and Carl managed both a half-smirk mingled with blazing eyes towards the dark-haired younger man. "Let's just have dinner, discuss the scholarship and have a good night. West, please have a seat with us," Alan said with a smile.

As soon as everyone took their seats – Carl to the right of the head of the table, Meg on the left with Herbert next to her – Alan stood at the head of them all with the wine bottle in hand, starting with his daughter first, West next, then Carl, saving himself for last. "I would like to propose a toast to the National Science Foundation for recognizing the genius of our very own Dr. Carl Hill, who has rewarded Miskatonic University with its largest grant ever," he said with a large smile. Megan cracked a little one herself, though it faded when she saw Carl's lip half-curl when he glanced West's way; from the corner of her eye, she saw the reason why: West was glowering murderously at him the whole time and sneering at the word "genius". If Daddy saw this, then he said nothing.

And for some odd reason, Meg found herself wondering if what West had said was true, though she'd never once before meddled in Carl's affairs even if any of it disturbed her: did he _really_ take credit for Dr. Hans Gruber's research? Publish work that wasn't his own and passed it off as so? Sure, she was familiar with Hans Gruber's theories and breakthroughs, so it had to be possible. For that, she couldn't believe she would soon be marrying, as West put it, a plagiarist.

"Your latest laser drill sure is going to revolutionize neuroscience," Daddy was saying to Carl, who only smiled in response, and everyone picked up their wine glasses – including West – and clinked them together in cheers. Meg took a small sip from hers, following the "proper lady" protocol that regarded small sips of champagne and wine.

But Herbert, however, did not drink his at all. Alan smiled at him. "It's alright, Mr. West, you can drink up. We're celebrating."

Herbert forced a half-smile. "I know, Dr. Halsey, but I don't drink wine. Or alcohol of any sort," he said politely, only to be challenged by Hill.

"Not even with such a fine feast? You should have said something sooner and Alan wouldn't have poured you a glass." His smile was meant to be consoling, but under the surface was something of scorn. He was trying to goad Herbert West into snapping and saying something he didn't want to. Megan braced herself for the worst.

"I didn't want to be rude," Herbert retorted, his patience thread thin.

"Any ruder than you are in class?" Hill returned, ignoring the look that both Meg and her father were giving him. "Believe me, Halsey knows everything as you are well aware. Bringing this up over dinner when we should be celebrating such wondrous news." His eyes briefly flicked over to Meg, which Herbert noticed right away and took a different, much more dangerous turn in the conversation than he should have.

"Celebrating the fact that you're marrying Dean Halsey's daughter?" West laughed sarcastically. "Believe me, that would make all the more interesting a dinner conversation than the grant discussion it's supposed to be." Alan sucked in a breath but said nothing, instead choosing to take another drink of wine. Meg could feel her heart pounding again, louder and harder and faster than before. The other students at school whispered about her engagement to their peers for the sake of it, so it didn't surprise her that West would catch on. Her engagement wasn't something she would love to talk to everyone about, not even to Dr. Harrod, her sometimes-mother figure.

"Both of you, stop it," she interrupted. Her father smiled in relief at her ending another impending disagreement that he had not wanted at the dinner table either. She refused to look at West; she knew he was glaring at her interruption. "Let's just eat before it gets cold."

Carl chuckled and picked up his utensils. "I couldn't agree more. I'd hate for such a feast to go to waste."

The evening passed by with smooth talk about the Wellman Scholarship and possible candidates – Meg included, and West, much to Hill's dismay even though he never voiced it – and comments on how delicious the food was. But Herbert never spoke much unless someone else asked him a question. And when dinner was over, Meg did the honors of gathering the dishes and taking them into the kitchen, placing them into the hot soapy water to soak, not long before her father called her back in.

"I have what I promised for you, my dear," Carl told her, reaching into his jacket to pull something out from one of the inner pockets. It was a red velvet box, measuring about seven by seven inches. A necklace, no doubt. Megan reached up to remove the one she wore currently; if everyone but West wanted her to try it on, might as well. Carl laughed and shook his head at her knowing, opening the box from the top for everyone to see.

Okay, her breath was blown from her body. Meg stared in amazement at the large diamond, estimated to be about fourteen carats, pear-shaped and surrounded by brilliant rounds. Stunning, sparkling...luxurious. "Good gracious," she breathed, reaching out to touch it with the pad of her finger.

Carl smirked proudly. "A reminder of my feelings for you, my dear." He removed the impressive charm from the black velvet background and unclasped it so he could stand and drape it around her neck. It twinkled with more fire than any other jewel she owned in her life.

"Oh, Meggie, that's wonderful," her father praised. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment; he'd used the pet name that hadn't been used on her since she was twelve, and in front of Carl AND Herbert West of all people. The latter looked him straight with one eyebrow raised, lasting only a few seconds and then looking back to her with it still in place. "You did great, Carl."

"It's overwhelming," Meg admitted. The jewel wasn't an enormous weight, though it did possess enough to be a mild nuisance above the valley between her cleavage. A small price to pay for such beauty.

"The story behind it came from the real gem of the Ottoman Empire," Carl explained. "At least, that's what I was told. It was held with great pride and dignity as you are wearing it now, dear." He turned his attention back onto both Alan and West. "According to legend, it was found by a very poor man in the middle of the seventeenth century, and he traded it for three wooden spoons, and as a result, this great jewel went from the hands of great leaders to the pettiest of thieves. It was prized greatly."

"Impressive." Alan nodded his interest and appraisal. Herbert, however, gave a brief nod of half-interest, instead choosing to keep his attention on Meg herself, face blank and devoid of emotion save for a twinkle in his eyes. It could only mean that she looked amazing, if it weren't for the person who gave it to her. Megan couldn't agree more. And then Carl was there again.

"I bought this for you, Meg, to wear on our wedding day," he told her with a smile. "And for that, I propose one last toast." He picked up his wine glass that he still had yet to finish. Truthfully, it was half empty, but enough for said last toast. "To you." And to the rest in the room, "My esteemed colleague's capable, beautiful, loving daughter, soon to be my wife in a matter of months." Her stomach lowered, threatening to spill the contents of her stomach, but not through her mouth, even at the last line and the long look he gave her that made her feel uncomfortable once more.

"The obsession of all who fall under her spell."

~o~

"How about some brandy?"Alan offered as soon as the "kids" were gone. Carl couldn't have agreed more as he reached for the cut-crystal decanter filled with the smooth yet strong Jack Daniels whiskey his longtime friend and colleague saved for the two of them when they were alone. He needed something stronger than the red wine, after all, even after spending the evening with Alan, Meg, and the little toad who infuriated him in his own classroom. Gruber's pet who still followed his mentor's footsteps even when the old codger was dead and buried in the ground, his rightful place.

Meg had looked ravishingly beautiful tonight, but when was she never? He'd known her since she was but a child and protected her from her troubled mother until her death. The diamond had been perfect and necessary all the same, because nontraditional gems were never his forte; his young bride-to-be deserved something as special and rare as she. Pouring a glass, he spoke to her father. "Your daughter has grown into an enchanting young woman."

"Yes, she has," Alan agreed, accepting the glass. He sighed, looking off to his side as though pondering the painful past. "You know that ever since Marianne died, she's taken care of the house, the cooking _and_ me," he finished with the smile of the proud father he was. Carl suppressed one of his own.

"It will be a shame when she leaves." Well, not directly leave her father forever; they would have plenty of time for visits. Their wedding date had been set for the end of her final year, which happened to be next year precisely, in the middle of June, and much of the planning had been finished despite her hectic schooling and working schedules. Megan had wanted a fairytale wedding ever since she was a little girl, constantly speaking various ideas to both Carl and her father with the enthusiasm and youth that ignited the fire Carl still felt for her to this very day. It had been his job to make her happy as much as he wanted her the way he'd made clear in his last toast...even though he could smell it off her skin that she had no idea how he _truly_ felt about her. He'd loved Megan Halsey even more than she knew, long since she was a vulnerable little one in need of a protector. "She deserves the best, Alan. Someone clearly superior," he added with a drink from his own glass.

Alan nodded. "Exactly. She's a very good scholar, and I'm proud of her. She's come so far, she has a bright future planned out for her. She wouldn't have made to where she is now without either of us. I'm just thankful she didn't run off with some boy I don't trust." A pause of silence before he finished. "I think she still needs our help, Carl. As much as she's grown up, she needs that scholarship."

Hill was thankful that he didn't so much as bring up Herbert West as a candidate for the Wellman Scholarship; that runt didn't deserve any much of what his old professor had. He was too arrogant and self-righteous for anything prestigious. Carl doubted he was even morally fit to be a doctor like Meg. "Well, it's a pity we've hardly brought up the idea of Herbert West being guaranteed on the spot. I mean, he studied under Hans Gruber, but the fact he's living with you and your daughter when he could have gone elsewhere. Yes, he's a..." He hated to use the word, but forced it out anyway. "...clever young man, but there could be a chance where he would use her to gain an advantage of you." He looked from the fireplace to Halsey's face, seeing a brief vacant expression that immediately morphed into a half-hearted laugh and shake of the head.

"Carl, I don't believe that. He's just young and still has much to learn."

Time for a different tactic. "Meg has matured in the past few years, but she's still young...and impressionable. Chances are that that West character could turn his attention towards her now that he is rooming with her." To know that the insufferable midget lived three rooms down from his fiancée was more than Carl Hill could bear. And Alan was still trying to fight off any suspicious ideas attempting to be implanted into his mind.

"West _is_ a strange bird, I'll grant you that," he admitted with a nervous laugh.

Carl secretly smiled. Even the wisest and most intelligent of minds could be corrupted; all it took was applying the right amount of pressure. "He's a cancer, Alan. His intelligence is highly questionable, which is why I doubt he should be considered one of the best young hopes for the future of medicine." The amber-gold flames of the fire crackled with the intensity of his words, which he could tell, without directly looking at the father of the bride himself. "He's disrespectful, tells lies about the staff. I think he's deranged. Dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Halsey repeated without so much as a blink.

"Yes, Alan. And he's very much near your daughter in this house. West is definitely dangerous, given his record in Zurich after the death of his professor. And to your daughter. Your beautiful, young...loving daughter."

Alan's voice was barely audible now, barely above a whisper. "He's dangerous...to my daughter." He sounded like a hypnotized man in a trance, so dazed and lost in the implants of his mind that his grip tightened on his brandy glass, crushing it in one moment. It was then that Carl Hill allowed the smile to split his face.

 **Oooh, Hill, you evil fox, you! This scene between him and Halsey was a deleted scene from the movie almost in the same way.**

 **The mention of Herbert pushing bodies around in the morue due to his "imperfection" is a reference to a part in the previously mentioned story "Shadows" in chapter one. I have little experience with these things, but I think it explains everything Herbert mentioned about that in the movie. :)**

 **The new necklace from Hill is also a real gemstone, which is the Orabelle** _ **DiamonAura**_ **, and the story behind it is the real "pride of the Ottoman Empire." The real gem supposedly sits under guard at Istanbul's Topkapi Palace.**


	7. Good Enough

Chapter Six

Good Enough

She'd taken off that dreadful heavy thing Carl gave her; it was too much for her despite how beautiful and unique it was. Meg kept it in the red box until the big day came; it wasn't until the end of next year. No rush to get to the final stage despite her having everything planned for her. Megan deliberated this as she removed her jewelry and slipped out of her dress and into her favorite pajamas of elegant poppy red silk with a jacquard print. The more she thought about it, the more she began to feel like one of those poor little rich girls in the movies and books that captured her heart as a little girl, until she reached a certain age where it dawned on her that life was not like in the imagination. Fantasy and reality were two entirely separate things.

Her wedding was one of the things that had been her dream as it should be every young woman's, but if not for who her groom was. You'd think that people today moved past an older man taking a young woman as his bride, if she hadn't said that before; maybe she had, but her memory tended to be lost in that direction. You're bound to forget how many times you've said something to someone or yourself.

Three types of men Meg knew for sure she didn't ever want to marry were an idiot, a man-child, and a domineering son of a bitch. An abusive one was nearly the same as the last. Carl wasn't domineering, but he wasn't exactly her type, either. She'd once tried telling her father how she didn't know how anyone could live in a marriage without the passionate romance everyone talked about was important in a union. He'd simply laughed and stated, as if she'd told a good joke, that that type of love was fleeting and you're bound to get over it. That had been when she was in high school, and part of the reason she didn't date boys then. They didn't really look to her, either, despite her good looks that she was often complemented for.

Men like Herbert West she wasn't so sure of, either. Megan still had no idea why he interested her so much, and he was just so strange that her smarter half would stay away from him as far as possible, but the nosy side insisted on poking around his background, like Daddy's file on him in his office since she also had access.

Perhaps she could start by learning to gain his trust and let him slip more details about himself.

She went out of her room and made way for West's room. Rufus was nowhere to be seen, so she automatically assumed he hid in one of the closets or plant corners. She was about to knock when something in her head stopped. Wait, he was bound to ask her why she would want to get to know him when he was not built fo social interaction. She ought to leave him alone, but she was already here. So she shoved the thought aside and knocked twice on his door.

Time seemed to fly by longer as she waited. When he did not answer, Meg frowned. Where was he? Was he even in his room?

~o~

The plagiarist himself and Dean Halsey were good friends and colleagues, Hill offered the largest grants ever to the school, what else was he known for? No one would believe his word over the "good" professor anyways. He was a mere academic who wouldn't be taken seriously anyway, so unless his re-agent was perfected enough to be shown to the world, he was the lowly student whose power was no more than Dr. Hill and the dean himself. And Megan would surely get away with about anything just because she was his fiancée and the dean's daughter. It made Herbert wonder if she'd ever been in any trouble in her life, or if she had, then she probably didn't get it on her record because Daddy got her off.

Herbert had escaped to the basement, sneaking downstairs as to make sure Halsey or Hill didn't hear him, locking the door behind him and getting to work right away on the re-agent, taking out the latest animal – a rat taken from the university's dissecting room – and putting it on the table, then sucking out two CC's of the re-agent. His tools had been quietly borrowed from the college, carefully made unrecognizable save to expert eyes, and he certainly couldn't bring in the incinerator, which happened to be worth too much for his unauthorized work. He'd always been a bit reckless in his life, and he wasn't ashamed. Independence had always been in his veins, though it would be nice to have someone else in on this as he was. Dr. Gruber had been there until his death, so to lose the old man had left a void in his heart, which hadn't beat – metaphorically speaking – for years now. He always got close to someone only to be hurt by them or lose them.

Herbert wrote down the latest in his notebook: _Specimen number two is rodent number two, this time from the college dissecting room. Calculated death is estimated to be at most two to four hours, given arrival was that late afternoon approaching evening, and reported to have been euthanized for biological purposes. No use for classroom experimentation known as of now, but subjected to attempt at re-animation at eight-thirty PM. September fifth._

He put his pencil down to pick up the syringe and examined it one last time before picking up the dead rodent and injecting it directly into the spinal cord.

Herbert set the needle down, placing the animal down and waiting for some time. He kept track of time on his watch, counting the seconds that passed by. Two...four...six...

And then a squeal that could belong to the rat sounded loud enough to give his eardrums a mild head pain, and upon seeing him, the animal jumped at him, making him fall back onto the floor. He'd chosen to stand just so the chair crashing wouldn't reach Halsey's ears as well as his little princess. Or worse, Hill.

The re-animated rat was on the verge of taking a bite out of his nose when he managed to grab it and hold it with all his might as he forced himself back onto his feet, picking up the pencil and jabbing it into the creature's hind, making it squeal in pain as blood spurted out and onto his shirt sleeve, staining it red like the wine he refused to drink at dinner. Herbert gritted his teeth as he twisted his writing utensil into the muscle and internal organs of the latest failed experiment until it died a second time.

Herbert cursed as he angrily threw the dead thing to the ground; a loud _splat_ was heard as it hit the concrete floor of the basement. He glared at it for a few more seconds before sitting down and writing out the last of his results.

 _Subject brought back with two CC's of re-agent, resulting in the same violent behavior as the others before it. I do not yet know if it is the dosage or if I am missing something in the formula. I suppose I will not know until I acquire a human specimen for further progress._

The sooner he jotted this down, the more his thoughts returned to Megan, who was without a doubt still upstairs in her bedroom. She was perfect for this, since she was the one who had access to the morgue. She would provide him with what he craved most. This woman who was so bright yet enclosed with tension, appeared soft and delicate on the outside but possessed an indestructible crux. Like he.

And yet he hungered for her in a way he couldn't identify, and it frightened him greatly.

~o~

Meg's first inclination was to peek into West's room to see if he was inside, but decided against it; she'd be invading his privacy if she did. She heard Carl and Daddy in the sitting room downstairs, still talking, but their voices were a result of the hesitation at her next decision. If Herbert wasn't in his room, he had to be in the basement. Meg figured because of his interest in seeing it the night he moved in.

And to this day she _still_ had no idea why he was so fascinated with it, or what he used it for. Or _did_ he sneak off to do whatever he wanted when nobody was looking?

Still in her pajamas, Meg tiptoed down the stairs, peeking around the corner to the sitting room where her father and fiancée were conversing still. She partially heard Daddy ask him if he wanted to go ahead and help buy her wedding dress not this Saturday but the next one coming up. They had gotten her dress at the beginning of spring in her first year when they finally managed to find a day off for her to pick out – just her, Daddy and Dr. Harrod, since Carl couldn't see the bride just yet, still a superstitious custom today – and it was beautiful and unique, a fabric from the old days blended with an up-to-date, making it a modern fairytale charm. Each time at her fittings given she didn't have odd to no times of excercise and eating habits, her dress still managed to fit her just right.

Meg almost never went down into the basement, but it never bothered her before, not since she was a child who was easily spooked by the stories of monsters in the closets, under the bed, and sometimes the basements, though they varied. Perhaps not knowing the person she was looking for was down there or not was making her shiver, as well as the idea of Daddy and Carl hearing everything from where they were. They might not be physically strong as they were back in the day, but their ears were sharp as Rufus' cat ears.

Meg was about to reach for the doorknob when it suddenly rattled and burst opened, once more showing the glaring face of Herbert West, the same way he had been when ordering her to keep Rufus out of his room. "What are you doing here?"

She returned the glare, his rudeness finally getting under her skin. How could he be so hostile towards other people? "Well, you weren't in your room, so I figured you were here," she answered, keeping her voice down.

He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, and why would you come looking for me?"

"I just wanted to ask you some questions."

"And that is?"

Meg opened her mouth to answer when she heard footsteps and voices. Hearing them, too, West swiftly slipped out from behind the door and locked it behind him; he had a key. _The_ key. Meg's first instinct was to tell Daddy on him, but she was an adult, so she sealed her lips shut.

Daddy was showing Carl out the door, telling him good-night and thanking him for coming. Carl returned it all with a thanks, until his eyes landed on both her and Herbert standing there. He gave her a small smile and nod, but no reaction to West, apparently deciding he'd had enough of him for the night. Any day in class, add to that. As soon as Carl was out the door did Alan turn to them both with an unreadable yet wary expression. "Do you two need something?"

"Um, no, Daddy." He sounded tired, like something was bothering him. What had he and Carl been talking about? Did it have to do with West? It had to be, and it worried her. As much as Herbert West troubled her, Meg still felt that she wanted to...protect him. She felt there was something about him that made her feel like maybe, somehow, she could stand up to her father and Carl someday.

~o~

 _She had never tried on wedding dresses in her life, only seen them in bridal catalogues and on the TV shows and movies she'd grown up loving to get ideas for her own, but now she was really worried. This was her first time, and she was worried she wouldn't find a dress she liked today, and this was the only chance they would have. The dress came first above all planning of the wedding._

 _"Megan Halsey," she told the receptionist., whose name read Candace. "Appointment with Christianne at eleven."_

 _"Megan!" Her consultant was tall and curvaceous in her little black dress and neon coral crystal necklace, though her hair was auburn, long and curled iron-style in numerous twirls. "You made it. And Dean Halsey, nice to meet you," she said to her father, shaking his hand. "Dr. Harrod, so happy you could make it today."_

 _"My best deserves someone important," Joan answered with a forced smile. She had patients to return to, but she wouldn't say so to Christianne, so it was a tight schedule for her, which made Meg feel like she was being rushed. Now she was all the more worried despite her father's warm, assuring hand on her shoulder. "I'm more than ready to get this over with." She wasn't shy about voicing her impatience, though. Christianne nodded and began to lead the three of them into the lobby where all the incredible selection of bridal gowns were on the racks. Meg felt overwhelmed; she didn't even know where to start. And then her consultant began asking about the groom, the wedding theme and what kind of style gown she was looking for._

 _"His name is Carl Hill._ The _Dr. Carl Hill," she added at the look on the other woman's face. "He's also my professor at school, and I kinda grew up with him. He was like an uncle to me and I just...you know, warmed up to him." She couldn't trust her enough to hurt Daddy by telling her how she really felt about Carl. "He proposed to me when I graduated high school. We're getting married as soon as I graduate medical school and get my MD, so because I'm so busy with school, we need time to plan the wedding, and I really need to go home with a dress picked out," she confessed as soon as she was done. Christianne nodded._

 _"What sort of style are you looking for?"_

 _"I envisioned what every girl dreamed of as a child, the fairytale wedding. I want something that's just that but also a bit modernized and mature. I don't want to look like a little girl; I wanna look like a woman." The last thing she needed was wearing bows and the likes of a child on the big day that marked the rest of her life._

 _And it was great that her prayers were answered. Christianne came back with two options that looked great enough for her. Meg could already tell one of them would be_ the _dress for her._

 _However, the first didn't impress due to_ one _minor detail. "This is bothering my neck," she told Christianne, motioning for the illusion-lace neckline that covered much of the exposed skin of her chest. The gown was a sexy A-line tulle gown with a court train, the whole bodice to the constricting neck and the button-up back beaded lace, but looking at it more closely, it was something of a traditional church wedding, like her parents had. Already Megan knew this wasn't her, but she still had to show her father and Dr. Harrod, already knowing how they would react._

 _"This reminds me of when I first got married," Joan commented with a smile. She'd been married for about fifteen years before getting a divorce, her grown up daughter currently living in San Francisco with her own soon-to-be husband._

 _"You look beautiful," Alan added, his face in "proud father" mode. But Meg shook her head, making that smile soon fade._

 _"I mean," she hastily explained, "it's big and bridal, like I want it to be, but I don't like the neck here." She motioned the suffocating fabric. "It's making it hard to breathe for me."_

 _"There's another to try on, and the next one is more old-fashioned with a modern twist," Christianne told her. "So let's get you out of this one and into the one you love."_

 _The sooner her eyes fell on the second and final dress...yep, this one was good enough compared to the last one._

~o~

It was just as she remembered it: light gold brocade draping the bodice before cascading into a voluminous skirt cut in the front to reveal tulle, accented with Swarovski crystal appliques at the left side of the waist, and the neckline was sweetheart. It was just her today, doing her final fitting and eventually picking it up. Carl had decided to pay for the dress for her as another wedding gift. He was spoiling her too much, she swore, but then again he had spoiled her since she was really young. Wearing a heather gray sweater dress and sneakers, she waltzed into the Musette Bridal Boutique in Boston. It was hard to say no to any of these dresses on display – well, almost hard given her experience – everything from twenties, thirties and so forth glam blended with today's standards and completely new fashion.

Meg said hello to Christianne on the way to her fitting room by chance, eager to get her dress and get the hell out of here. She had no weight problems, so she would have no problem trying her dress on once in awhile until the wedding day came, and if she did, her father could always call a seamstress for her.

~o~

Katherine was here for her final fitting and picking up her dress. She was over the moon excited since the wedding was a month away, and everything taken care of on time. Her mother, Erin, despite living in the retirement home, helped with the planning and was there when she and Isabel West picked out the dress. Having Herbert's mother and Crawford's aunt was...bittersweet for lack of a better word. For her and her husband to know that their unwanted son was living with their nephew whom they loved like a son after the death of his parents wasn't exactly good news to them. But they were adults now, so why would they care? It wasn't like Herbert would be living with his parents again.

Katherine was dressed in a dramatic green-and-black kimono top of chiffon with a fluttering lace overlay, her black pants stretchy but hugging her legs, and her hair held up in her favorite style for work. She stepped up to the counter where Candace was and announced her appointment time. "Flo is ready for you, Kathy," the receptionist told her, gesturing around the corner.

Katherine smiled and thanked her, just turning to head in that direction when she found herself face-to-face with a spitting image of herself that she was never allowed to see all her life.

 **The flashback of the wedding dress appointment was inspired by "Say Yes to the Dress" and "Say Yes to the Dress: Atlanta". In "Beyond the Boundaries", I did the same thing because I love the show so much. :) Consultant Christianne is of the regular SYTTD while the mentioned Flo is of "Atlana". And the Musette Bridal Boutique is a real bridal salon in Boston, Massachusetts.**

 **Uh oh, twin sisters just made eye-to-eye contact. (gasp) Can't wait to see how this plays out. XD**


	8. Tourniquet

Chapter Seven

Tourniquet

They stared at each other with the same pair of blue eyes mirroring the other. However, neither said a word, just gawked at each other in shock and confusion. Meg wondered if she was hallucinating or if she was actually staring at a _look-alike of herself._ However, before she could be the first to speak, the other woman – who wore wide-framed glasses like Herbert West did, but she didn't – quickly broke eye contact and hurried past her without a word.

What had just happened?

Meg looked to Candace at the receptionist's desk, her garment back over her shoulder. "Who was that woman?"

"Hmm?" She looked at her for a second before her eyes slightly widened with recognition. "Oh, that was Katherine McMichaels."

Her world began to spin right there on the spot. " _The_ Dr. Katherine McMichaels?" she repeated, stunned. Candace nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, she's getting married, too. To a Dr. Crawford Tillinghast. Surely you've heard of them?" Megan nodded absently as she bade her good-bye and left the store for her car, ready to get this thing home and go to the hospital. Her head was still spinning, but she had to keep it level for the drive home. Applying her foot to the pedal and reversing the vehicle out of the parking lot hadn't been difficult, but getting into the road itself was near-disastrous.

Just because Meg knew of Dr. McMichaels – soon to be Dr. Tillinghast – and her great work did not mean she knew _what_ she looked like. But then again with most famous scientists, their faces are never important until you meet them in person if the opportunity ever came. She was in complete shock the whole time she got herself home to safety and walked around the back of the car to grab her dress in its bag and hurried up to the house to get ready and get out of there to try and clear her head with work and the patients who loved her if everyone else at school laughed at her.

The whole time she drove back to the hospital, she wondered this: why was Katherine McMichaels a _spitting image of her?_

"Megan!" Oh, great, Dr. Harrod. Perfect timing, she thought sarcastically as she joined the older woman and ran with her to the ER. "You're right on time; we just got one in." She took Meg by the arm and sped up faster.

"I don't need to –" she started only to be cut off.

"No time to change," Joan stated. "You do that after this one. We have a failed suicide attempt that needs to be handled fast."

Meg gaped in shock when she saw the young woman in a soft lavender top and jeans, gasping for air and surviving on an oxygen mask – but who knew for how long. The gash on her neck was terrible, the work of a kitchen knife at most, and if that gushing torrent of blood wasn't stopped soon, the situation would be more life-threatening than it was. What had happened and how could she still be alive after all the time? Meg hurriedly made way for the tourniquet, which would stop the bloodflow when the gauze and cloth would only do the best they could. She wrapped it around the girl's neck – she looked to be about seventeen or so – and secured it as tight as it could go without strangling her and killing her right away. The bleeding was traumatic, obvious by the splash onto the girl's revealing chest and onto her clothes. The nurse had finished preparing the sedative, and the IV set up, the EKG monitoring the girl's signs. She was stable, for now. Meg breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened?" she asked after taking a few breaths to calm her rapidly beating heart.

Harrod shook her head. "Her parents brought her in after finding her on the kitchen floor, cut her own throat open with the kitchen knife. It's a miracle they found her in time, brought her here in time."

"How long ago was she brought in?"

"Less than thirty minutes. It's a miracle she didn't die right away."

Meg sighed and shook her head. "God, why on earth would she try and kill herself?" She'd come back to work only to find that a seventeen-year-old girl tried to kill herself; she wasn't a psychiatrist, but maybe it was over an unfaithful boyfriend, or maybe bullying. She could at least sympathize, but she was too young for this. Her own life was intolerable as it was, but THIS she would never resort to.

She walked over to look down at the face. The girl was blonde, like she was, though her eyes were closed so eye color was unidentified at the present. "Does this mean she'll be needing psychiatric evaluation, Doctor?"

Joan nodded somberly, folding her arms across her chest. "We've asked your father to get a hold of Dr. Katherine McMichaels as soon as we get this one into the ICU."

~o~

Some day this was for her. She'd gone to her fitting and pickup only to get called at her appointment that a teenaged girl had tried to take her own life only to be saved, and therefore required therapeutic care. She shook her head; her specialty was curing schizophrenics, but a patient needed her kindness and help. This was what she lived her life for. Saying no was the coward's way out.

Crawford had called and asked her when she was coming home; she couldn't tell him what had happened when she told him the hospital called her in the case of an emergency with a suicide attempt. She'd seen her separated twin sister – Megan Halsey, the dean's daughter whose father wouldn't allow them to have physical contact – unexpectedly at the bridal salon in Boston. Katherine was more than happy to finally do so as much as it risked trouble if it got to Dean Halsey, whom she would never, ever acknowledge as her father. Her father had been a good man despite his mental instability, spent fifteen years of his life in the insane asylum before he was taken from her and her mother. What kind of father claimed to love a woman and have twin girls, separate them and have no more contact with the other twin and the birth mother for years to come?

There was so much Katherine wanted to say to Megan, so much...but how could this be settled without it damaging her relationship with her father?

It felt like looking in the mirror when she finally reached the ICU of the hospital. There was Dr. Joan Harrod, whom she hadn't had much of any encounters with while she was still a student.

And there was _Meg_. Who looked up upon hearing the clacks of her heels, and her jaw literally dropped to the floor. Of course, Katherine expected that. Harrod, however, smiled warmly at her and nodded for her to come in. "Glad you could make it, Dr. McMichaels."

She chewed her lower lip nervously when she looked down at the young face under the blue blankets, sighing softly. "Made it in time, I think. How is she?"

"Stable. Sedated, but stable. Her name is Tiffany Bateman, seventeen years old and an only child. We don't know yet why she tried to kill herself, but that's why we called you," she added with her head tilting halfway back to her. "Think maybe you could get her to talk to you so she can get some...psychiatric help."

There was an undertone of scolding from the older woman, and it made her sick. This was a child, for God's sake. Chances were Miss Bateman had a bad break-up or bullying problems, but Harrod was right. There was no telling until she awoke and handed to her. "By psychiatric help, you mean me taking her with me so I can see if she has any case of mental disorder. Thanks, Doctor, but as you might as well know my specialty, I refuse to have her locked up in the Sefton ward or any other in the town," she said coolly, getting a calm nod and an equal facial expression.

Megan had said nothing the whole time during the discussion, so she surprised her. "Nice to meet you, Doctor," she said hesitantly, stepping forward, hand outstretched, though she was unsure of the action. "I read some of your work. Impressive."

Katherine smiled. "Well, thanks. So is your record here, Miss Halsey. And congratulations on your...engagement." She hissed internally; Carl Hill marrying her twin sister was something she could go without knowing and die the happier for it, but at the same time, she sympathized because Alan Halsey agreed and arranged it with the school's grant donor and leading brain physician. Megan's back was facing the older doctor, so Harrod didn't see the visible flinch the young woman gave.

"Thanks." The word was tight, forced.

Harrod cleared her throat. "So, Doctor, what are your plans for Miss Bateman once she comes to?"

She'd known all along before she got here. "Well, you know I don't favor locking the patients up, give them drugs and all that. I'll return her to her parents once she's made a full recovery, and then I'll be visiting them on a weekly basis to have regular session with her. Chances are this is classic teenage heartbreak or school swaggering." Her use of term made the other two women laugh with her before it got serious again when Dr. Harrod checked her watch.

"Oh, my. I'm needed now, so I best be going."

This left Katherine alone with her clearly baffled twin sister, whom she could tell was piecing it together but had yet to see solid proof. What could she tell her? "Can I call you Megan?" she asked slowly.

The other didn't answer for a moment, still staring at her like she was staring at her own reflection in a mirror, before she blinked twice. "I guess. I prefer Meg like everyone else."

"I suppose you're wondering..." Katherine paused there, trying her hardest how to get this out without forcing. "...how we..."

"Resemble," she finished. "At the bridal salon. You're marrying Herbert West's cousin, Dr. Tillinghast."

Katherine perked her head up at the mention of Herbert's name. "Oh, how is he?"

"All right, I suppose. He's odd, doesn't interact much." Meg narrowed her eyes. "But tell me something: are we twins or something? The more I look at you, the more I see myself."

~o~

He was volunteering in the emergency room for the day when he saw Katherine come in. He was delighted to see her here, but she'd been called in for her job. Herbert had nothing at the present, taking his mind off for the present to see her and exchange a few words, following her to the ICU and stopping outside upon hearing not only her voice, but Miss Halsey's – _her twin sister._ He couldn't help but smile to himself; oh, if Daddy found out, this would be very interesting.

"Yes." Katherine's voice was tired and resigned. "We're sisters."

Ah, so she finally told her. Not caring that Crawford would flip, but most of all not caring if her birth father knew about them finally speaking to each other. He could imagine how the formerly oblivious Meg was taking this, her words saying it all. He didn't plan on staying out here too long to be caught, so he heard what the latter said before finally taking off for more important maters.

"Oh...oh, my God. Wh-what – how come I never knew before?" she asked, sounding like she was on the verge of accusing the other woman of lying. "Why wouldn't Daddy tell me any of this?"


	9. Hello

**Now that Meg knows Katherine McMichaels is her twin sister, long since separated, how will she ever confront her father about it now? Time will tell.**

Chapter Eight

Hello

Crawford smiled as he put the last touches of the dinner for two in order. Salmon garnished with orange slices and raspberries...it was her favorite, he found out not long after they got together. It was one of the things he remembered Pretorius teaching him that was perfect for Valentine's Day, though it was one of the things he remembered being one of the many fabulous meals he would invent for one every other woman he would bring back to the house – but then, as he told Bubba and his Kathy, "it would always end with screaming".

Saturday night, the same night on the same day Katherine had picked up her dress and waiting for their day. There were times Crawford asked her if he could see her in it, and she would always tease him and tempt him, saying that it was "bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding day". Superstitions still running despite Crawford's lingering to the point where God played a lesser part in the universe as a whole. This was another thing he and Herbert agreed on: science played a role in life, not theology. But limits were always drawn, and some were never meant to be crossed.

Love, however, was limitless. This one small detail which played a part in tonight was proof of his own doing. One of the small things he would ever thank Edward for. The small table in the house of suburban Arkham he shared with Katherine was lit with two tall pillar candles and the crystal vase filled with roses. He fidgeted nervously and excitedly as he thought of the present he'd gotten her the day before but waited for tonight as they celebrated getting married in a month. It was September fourteenth, and their wedding day was October eighteenth. He couldn't be anymore happier for that day to come, and Herbert was going to be there, but while he knew his cousin was happy to attend for his sake, Crawford was mostly worried about Uncle Rick and Aunt Isabel unwillingly speaking to their always-unwanted son. His parents died when he was four in a car crash and went to live with them, and they loved him like their own.

It was wrong in Crawford's book to be in a family where love didn't exist. Katherine and Aunt Isabel didn't clash, but the coolness was there. Kathy didn't like her future aunt-in-law the moment she laid her eyes on her as well as the moment she learned Herbert was unwelcomed and always had been. They didn't even praise Herbert's uniqueness and intelligence, not even bade him luck when he went off to Zurich, leaving Crawford alone at Miskatonic. Going to that prestigious medical school was another argument they'd had before graduating high school, mostly because Crawford could see Herbert making it the same way he had, although Dean Halsey wouldn't have accepted his wild theories on the nature of death; the dean would have been on his tail from the first moment on, and Herbert was known for the love of secrecy for the sake of his life's work.

He shoved the thoughts of Herbert and the work aside for the night. Tonight was him and his fiancée and nothing else. Crawford looked up when he heard the soft footsteps in the doorway. There was Katherine in a soft blush-colored lace dress that stopped at the knees, not baring much of her chest but enough to leave room for the present he got her, and her hair held half up with curls falling over one shoulder. His breath caught in his throat as he picked up the two glasses of red wine and walked over to her, first pecking a sweet kiss on her soft, plump lips. "You look beautiful, baby," he said softly.

"And you're so handsome, honey," she answered, returning a smile. Her attention shifted to the exquisite dinner he'd made just for them. "Smells great. I'm hungry so much, and afterwards..." Her eyes twinkled suggestively like the deepest pools sucking him to his doom, which made him want to drown with her. He grinned at her and led her over to the table.

"That will happen, but first things first." He set his wine glass down and took hers to join, before reaching into his shirt pocket for the jewel, dangling it before her eyes. The sparkle was addicting as her eyes were, this real example of a perfect fairytale.

Katherine gasped as he went behind her and clasped its around her neck. The pear-shaped diamond stopped above her heart, barely touching the soft curves of her chest. "Oh, Crawford, it's beautiful."

He kissed the bare skin of her neck. "Not as beautiful as you, my love." He certainly looked forward to spending the rest of his life with her. She's treated him the same way she treated all of her patients, with intense kindness and support when so many others in the world used and manipulated others to get what they wanted. Katherine turned her face his way and was just leaning in to accept another on the lips when the doorbell rang unexpectedly.

~o~

Part of Megan wasn't sure why she was even here, even though she knew why. Her body felt empty, light...almost dead and literally unmoving despite her being aware of her every movement and surroundings. She had found time to sneak to the records and found Katherine McMichaels' birth certificate for confirmation. Though she believed every word the other woman said, she still needed to see it. A blood test wasn't necessary because birth records never lied.

Their birthday was the seventeenth of January, twenty years ago exactly, both born in the evening, but the difference was that Katherine came ten minutes before Meg. Which confirmed it officially.

 _Katherine McMichaels was her twin sister._

How could her father keep this from her? Meg held her coat together from the chilling September wind, the cold fear and anger closing tighter around her heart, standing outside the front door of the address Katherine gave her earlier. "Whenever you have it in you," she'd said before leaving her for the day. Leaving her hollow and confused...and hurt most of all. Why was this happening now? Why didn't it happen before? How could Daddy do this to her? There was so much she'd wanted to ask him, demand the answers even if it risked her future, but that was what scared her. One act of rebellion meant she was losing everything, becoming a submissive wife and eventual mother even if it sickened to her bowels.

Katherine lived with her fiancée, Crawford Tillinghast. The cousin of Herbert West, her odd housemate. She hadn't spoken to or heard from him since West moved in with her and her father, nor had Herbert spoken to her about him, not that she expected him to. It was strange walking up to his house when she had no idea how to continue to try and talk to the twin sister she never knew she had. A twin who was like her in so many ways, successful career field and a mostly perfect success rate even though Meg's own was nearly the same, but more deaths than crazies locked up.

The door finally opened, and she found herself looking at a face resembling West that she had not seen since early last week. "Oh, Crawford, hi," she said awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot. The anxiety returned now, more than worrying about her father demanding to know what kept her so long. She'd left work and came right here instead of straight home; if he came home and she was still out, he would want to know what made her so distracted from making dinner.

"Megan." Crawford looked her over with a worried eye; worried over what? "What are you doing here?"

"I invited her." Both turned their attention behind her at the sound of Katherine's voice. She was smiling, and Meg managed a small one of her own. "I didn't think you'd do it so soon," she stated, walking to stand beside Crawford, who blinked and looked back and forth between the two women with a rapid eye.

"Ladies, I don't think this is a good time –" he started.

"Guys, I'm sorry, but I don't have much time before my father wonders where I am," Meg interrupted, not meaning to be so rude. Crawford turned his attention back to her.

"He doesn't know you're here?"

"Of course not. How could I explain that I just met an identical twin I never knew existed?" Meg returned calmly. "And to know she's getting married to the cousin of a housemate who creeps me out, which I'm also happy for." She didn't mean for it to be that way, but West _did_ sort of scare her as much as he...set her nerves on fire. She still hadn't found the time to look into his file, and Daddy was leaving on Monday for a board meeting with Carl for Boston, planning to be gone until Friday. That meant she had the whole week and the house to herself, and freedom from Carl even if it was short-lived. Rare were her times alone.

But maybe this week she wouldn't be so alone now with these two in front of her – and the other one she rarely saw unless in school and in Hill's classroom, where he was still doing a fine job making their teacher furious.

"Perhaps maybe we should continue this another time," Crawford said abruptly, bringing her back to reality. "Meg, it was nice to see you again, but maybe you should go home before your father finds out." He gave her a little smile; it wasn't meant to be cruel. It was as though he was actually worried for her, but _how_ could he be THAT worried for her? She barely knew him any more than his cousin; where was her life going now with two strange men?

"Okay then." She nodded to them both and turned to leave. "It was...nice seeing you two again." Especially Katherine, the sister she was still in shock of but was beginning to think that things were going to change. Change was either good or bad, but right now Megan couldn't tell which one. Just that her nerves were rattling more than ever.

~o~

"Please don't be mad," Katherine begged when her fiancée closed the door. Or perhaps she should have known better because Crawford whipped around and put his back against the door.

"Seriously, Katherine? When her father –"

She lost it in spite of herself. "To hell with him!" she shouted. "Crawford, I'm tired of hiding and keeping secrets. It wasn't like I planned anything." The magic lost in the change of atmosphere, she turned and stalked away from him. This had gone on for far too long, covering things up and keeping them hidden. She'd just met her sister who took it better than she thought, or maybe Meg was actually hiding the shock and anger she was feeling. She didn't know why Crawford was so afraid all the time as much as she loved him. He couldn't just run away forever from letting the truth have its day.

"Kathy, please, don't." He grabbed her by the arm and turned her around, preventing her from going any further to their room where she'd planned to lock herself in for self-preservation's sake. "Don't shut me out. I didn't mean what I said. Don't be angry with me on our night of all times."

She jerked her arm our of his hold. "Yes, I'm angry, but not at you!" she burst. "The fact that I'm actually the daughter of a man who used my mother and abandoned her so he could separate me from my own flesh and blood, let her grow up never knowing her other family for the sake of him protecting his own family. To know that Meg's life is no better than mine is, getting married to a man who sickens me as much as the man who is in no form the father he should have been to me. And to know that he was the cause of Dr. Gruber's death and the reason your cousin hates him so much is even more so. We live in a world full of people who lie, keep secrets, place boundaries for their own sakes and cowardice, and that's why I try to make peace. Crawford..." Katherine paused to take a deep breath and sigh, trying to calm her fraying nerves. "I love you, but it's too late to turn back now. Families never keep secrets from each other. My mother never did that to me, your family wasn't shy about being blunt, and Herbert isn't either. Do you really want to pass down secrets and lies to our kids?"

He sighed and shook his head. "No, I don't." He huffed slightly then and rolled his shoulders back in his own method of regaining his calm. "I'm sorry, Kathy. I didn't mean to lose it on our special night of all nights. I want to make up for it now. So, what now? How are we going to have you and your sister meet up for more catching up?"

Katherine grinned that he was now on the same page as her. "Well, tonight it's back to us. We'll worry about the details tomorrow." She leaned up and pecked him a kiss on the mouth, leading the way back to the table to get back the magic which had been ruined by family drama.

~o~

Daddy still wasn't home by the time she returned, but it was a lie to say she was wholly relieved. Rufus yowled and jumped into her arms, but it wasn't just that he was happy to see her. Normally when he made that awful sound, it was because he was terrified, and she saw why. There was Herbert making his way down from the stairs, pausing at the bottom step and smiling oh so slightly. "Why, Meg, you've arrived later than ordinarily." She raised an eyebrow at the nicer term, one of the synonyms for "normally". He was a smart man...smarter than Hill.

"You really want to know what kept me, or you gonna let me get to cooking dinner for Daddy to come home to?" she asked with a soft laugh, setting Rufus down so he ran off in the opposite direction, past West and into the kitchen. Herbert watched him go with a blank look before turning it back to her. He didn't answer her, so she decided to just go straight to the kitchen. He didn't give her a definite answer as he sat himself down at the kitchen counter, gracefully so while keeping his eyes on her. Meg rarely saw him come in, even as she prepared Daddy's favorite beef stroganoff, but even if she did, it was his favorite choice of sandwiches. His constant lingering gazes burned into her back for a long period of time before he broke the silence.

"Well...are you going to tell me what kept you?"

Meg whipped her body around and found no trace of that smile of his. Oh, _now_ he was asking her. "If I told you, would you really be interested in what I have to say?" she asked coolly.

He smirked to one corner of his mouth. "I'll listen attentively, yes, but that depends entirely if I'm interested by the time you break it out."

She scoffed and shook her head. "Well, if I tell you, Herbert, would you promise me you won't tell my father?" Chances of that were high, because Herbert West saw and heard things that he chose not to speak to another soul unless he had a reason. That was her cue to continue. "I have a twin sister."

He surprised her with his answer. "Katherine."

Meg couldn't believe what she'd just heard, and the bubbling of the noodles in the pot forced her to turn her attention to it and stirred them to make sure they didn't stick to the bottom. "How did you – you _knew_ all along," she accused, stirring faster and furiously, almost losing control before a small drop splattered onto her hand, making her yelp and drawing back, setting the spoon down and running to the sink to put her hand under the cold water. "You knew we were sisters." Of course; Katherine must have told him at some point.

"I did," West answered smoothly. "But I might not have dwelled on it so much, but I comprehended that you would find out yourself. After all, your father might not have wanted you knowing this, I think." His long, slender fingers were drumming steadily on the countertop with the beat of a foreign drum. The sound itself matched the rhythm of her heartbeat as she nodded in agreement, but before she could say anything, the front door opened, and her father called to them that he was back.

"Dinner's almost ready," Meg called, though she could have sworn her voice cracked a little. She went back to adding the flavoring to the hamburger meat in the other pot and then finishing heating the noodles, taking them to the sink to drain. Her body was aching for a release of tension when Daddy finally walked in and smiled at her before turning his attention to Herbert and gave him one, though it seemed forced. He and West barely communicated much since the grant meeting with Carl, too. But him and Herbert were the least of her worries, unlike the fact that her own father, her flesh and blood, had lied to her all her life. She didn't know who she was anymore, or him, at least.

It made her wonder, too, if that was why Marianne Halsey killed herself.

Now that it was making sense now, there were those times Marianne said that Meg didn't even look like her, said that she was no daughter of hers, though at the time Meg dismissed it as mere cruel words. She didn't know why, as a maturing adult, she didn't see the signs then, but how could she? She'd been a teenager then who understood but at times decided to brush it off because it did not seem possible, that she might as well had been assuming.

This, however, was not the time to assume. It was time to face the facts.

"So, honey, Carl will be coming over for the day tomorrow, so you two can spend some time together before we leave Monday," her father explained as he shrugged off his jacket and hung it on the rack in the kitchen. "Thought maybe you two could head to lunch or something, and West, if you want to get out of the house for awhile..." he started only to be interrupted smoothly and calmly.

"I would love to, Doctor," Herbert said, "but I have some work to catch up on, if the both of you understand that."

Alan seemed to take that. "Very well. Guess it's just the two of you then, Meggie," he told her with a smile. She couldn't return it, only nodded in silence, her mind too heavy with thoughts and plans of investigation involving Herbert West's file in his office.

But how would she ever confront her father about her newly found twin sister, Katherine McMichaels?


	10. Lacrymosa

**I've enjoyed doing nothing but immediate bonding of twin sisters long separated from birth. :) One of the most important factors at the heart of this story.**

Chapter Nine

Lacrymosa

Leaving his Meg behind was always a burden to him whenever Carl was called away to discuss the latest grant funding for the school, as well as the most recent development – including a demonstration of the laser surgical drill with Alan by his side. The old fool who had once been his school friend and colleague – Gruber, namely his theories on the will of the brain – down, and that meant another step in this, by which the lobotomy drill would soon come in. Progress so far was nothing short of perfect, but the device needed a subject who would be the absolution.

That would have to wait, given he was in no hurry to achieve the glory, thanks to the dainty one by his side, whose smaller hand was held in his as he escorted her to the cafe, was the most of his worries. It was always her above everything else and hadn't changed a bit. Megan's presence and appearance rendered him to a point where he would sometimes lose track of his speech, but in class given he recited the lecture to himself countless times, he made an exception in managing both watching her in the class and teaching together. Right now, since today was their last day together until Friday, there was so much Carl planned to say to her that had been bottled up for so long, but he also had to tread carefully because he did not miss how she would manage an awkward smile and shy away from him. Carl was not deceived; Meg was afraid of him. She was afraid of him, but it fueled his desire more.

The dress was soft and flowing about her impeccable body, baring her long, pale legs and arms, the neck low enough to show the curves he only saw touching in his dreams at night. Pink and lovely, she was more and more of a woman now than the very first day of meeting. Carl could not take his eyes off her; he never could. How could anyone avoid looking at this precious creature beside him? Her hair had once been long and thick, cascading over her shoulders before she turned sixteen and decided to cut it to the way it was now, keeping it that way ever since. It had angered Carl, but he kept it to himself because he simply did not want to frighten her. He'd been there when she had it done at the salon; when no one was looking, he'd gathered a few strands of her hair mostly because he wanted to always have a sample of that silken hair and wrapped in ribbon to keep it together. The smell of her remained; he could never get enough of her cool, sweet perfume when she stood near him.

Carl allowed her to take a seat first across from him. In the middle of September, the weather was freezing, but it was a good thing Megan wore her favorite coat while they sat outdoors; he'd wanted this for her, after all. He was still old-fashioned in the sense of lavishing the girl to win her over, but Meg was far from feeling what he felt for her; she never spoke to him about it directly, but he could smell it radiating off her. It angered him and broke his heart to know that, but perhaps in time, after they were married, she might grow to love him.

"Meg," he started as he sat down in his seat across from her, shrugging off his jacket and draping it behind him on the chair, "I realize we never had much time together ever since you got into school."

She shrugged. "Well, we knew it would be like that. Not much time together outside class, I mean."

"Indeed." He detected hesitation in her voice and leaned forward. "But please let's take the time today to talk before I leave with your father tomorrow." Her eyes – wide and blue as the skies – were eyeing him as though she suspected something she wasn't going to like. Her hands were in front of her on the table, clasped together but not tight enough for the knuckles to turn white, but for her palms to start sweating. Carl sighed and reached out to lay his hand on top of hers; she visibly stiffened at the contact. "Meg, we're getting married as soon as you graduate, but please, don't be afraid. I know this has all been very difficult for you, and I won't pretend not to. I only want the best for you. I don't want you afraid of me or anything else."

She opened her mouth, ready to respond to him when the waiter arrived then to ask them what they would want.

~o~

This was not the strong, pure version of his re-agent in his hand; Herbert surveyed it as he sat in his room, his whole body quaking with prescience. No, he made another version, a weaker one not long after returning to Arkham with Katherine. Perspiration was coating his forehead and no doubt moving to all parts of his body. He was feeling the pound in his head, telling him that he needed to take this soon before he lost it altogether. Herbert had unbuttoned the cuff of his left shirt sleeve and rolled it above his elbow so said part was bared for the small dosage in the needle. His heart was pounding; if he didn't hurry, he would collapse, and Dean Halsey would surely find out and the consequences were dire. He would wish he'd have listened to his cousin in the beginning.

The dreams flashing back to Hans' death and failed re-animation had followed him when he moved in with Crawford and Katherine, and by then he decided enough was enough. He considered rapid eye movement sleep with Katherine's help, but then again, the person was likely to dream while in that stage, and he'd panicked that the nightmares would happen again, and he'd be rendered defenseless. Release of negative energy? Bah again. He'd found a better way to keep himself from dreaming of Gruber's death.

He did not include the main element of the re-agent, delivering a lesser force through the body. Herbert had decided a small dose on himself given he knew the risks of an overload, and this was all it took. He needed this because it kept him awake and his mind alert; there was too much work to do to sleep. Herbert managed without difficulty, and there were few times he needed the substance; his reminders were if he ever started feeling the pang to the head, most of the time being during the evening. Daylight was rare, like today. The moment the verdant solution set its course through his arm and shot with great speed throughout the rest of his body, an indescribable feeling of indulgance set him afire; Herbert was on the verge of letting out his hisses of satisfaction. He had to be careful so Halsey wouldn't hear – or Meg, his unwillingly engaged princess.

Whose vivid sapphire eyes and rosy lips, all set in a captivating face, suddenly entered his mind in the midst of the aftermath of his frenzy.

Herbert's body subsided with the spasms of his muscles – namely the ones down below, in the regions of his pants – when he finally forced himself to sit up, gritting his teeth together at the unexpected image of Meg on his mind. For God's sake, he was interested in finding a way to get her trust, gain access to a human subject, not like this. No changes in the animals he still smuggled into the basement, and he had no other choice but to at least attempt a way to first get her to believe in his work. Her father would be gone tomorrow, which meant he had all week with his daughter and that infernal black beast of hers.

Herbert managed a smile when he thought of Rufus.

~o~

It was Monday now, and Katherine couldn't be anymore excited meeting her sister here to finally catch up – and tell her the story of their parents. She knew Meg wouldn't take it well, but then again, when her own mother first told her, she didn't either, but in the end it was Alan Halsey's fault. He kept them separated, didn't bother contacting her and Erin for so many years, didn't acknowledge Katherine as his daughter when she got into Miskatonic under him...and most of all, kept the twins separated the whole time there.

She sat at one of the tables beside one of the windows, wearing a creamy sweater and printed brown skirt as well as the necklace from Crawford, looking outside the whole time, having told the waitress she was waiting for someone to arrive, and when said person finally did, she just about jumped up and hurried over to greet her. "Meg, you came!" Her twin was in a bright red blouse and dark blue jeans, face set in a mask of ambiguity, the whole time she sat down across from Katherine, not once taking her eyes – the same clear crystal blue as her own – off her face.

"I almost didn't," Megan answered finally. "Daddy and Carl are gone until Friday, so I thought today sooner than later."

Katherine nodded. "Yeah. So you still haven't told him about finally meeting your...long-separated sister?" she asked hesitantly, causing the other woman to stiffen slightly. For the sake of it, her eyes fell on the black pearl and blue tanzantine ring around Meg's finger, telling her she was in one of the rarest engagements of America's time of the present, and it wasn't of her own will. And Katherine believed marriage was of someone's own will, not some burden and duty.

Meg exhaled softly. "Of course I didn't. How could I? He's the only family I have left – well," she added sheepishly, "he _was,_ before I met you." She leaned forward. "How come he lied to me about this? I was raised an only child, and yet I recently find out I have a biological, identical twin who happens to be the great Dr. McMichaels." Katherine couldn't help but laugh at the compliment. She turned around and called for the waitress again for the refreshments now, and saying they were ready for ordering now. Nothing too fussy, of course. Both of them had the homemade soup of the day and a veggie sandwich, and Meg had to be back at the hospital in a couple hours. "So, does this mean you and I have...the same mother? I did read your birth certificate and mine, comparing them," Meg spoke, her voice calm and devoid of any other emotion.

Katherine absently stirred her lemonade, trying to think of how to get this out without offending her sister. "Well, as you already know yourself, Alan Halsey was already married to Marianne Halsey – and no, I won't call him Daddy like you do," she told her coolly. "He was never a father to me, unlike the one I've known only through my mother, visiting with her while he was committed into the mental asylum because of his condition that they called incurable. That man who spent fifteen years of his life in an institution and died there...he was my father because Mom was married to him, and she raised me by herself because the man who made me kept his distance all to 'protect my family'," she spat, feeling like she wanted to really spit in Halsey's face. Meg actually cracked a grin, knowing what she was thinking. Katherine shrugged and continued.

"Mom had an affair with Alan because her husband whom she loved to death was locked away without hopes of ever being released, which is also exactly why I do what I do. They said Dad couldn't be cured and released, tried everything from drugs, surgery, and the horrible shock therapy. But it all overwhelmed every system in his body and turned him into a stiff." She could feel the tears pricking the corners of her eyes and could see Meg's eyes glazing over, threatening to spill their own. "But besides that, back to her and Alan...your father, who also happens to be mine. She told me they were together for a few months after Dad was taken to the institution, before she went to him and told him she was pregnant. He finally confessed to his wife, who was unable to have children of her own, and it should be obvious how she took it. He broke off the affair then, leaving my mother to take care of the baby herself, until further testings of an ultrasound showed that she was having twins, and when she went back to him to tell him and Marianne, it was agreed that the twins would be split up. I suppose Mom felt it in her to at least show her sorries and regret, one act of kindness that she actually knew would never make up for taking Marianne Halsey's husband away from her. Mom knew offering a child in replacement of one Marianne couldn't have herself would never erase Alan's unfaithfulness."

Never in her life did Katherine ever tell anyone the truth about her parentage, until now. Her mother would have been called a whore if anyone knew what really happened, and the truth she'd long ago told anyone who asked her about her daughter was that her father died before Katherine was born. Mentioning Alan Halsey, the dean of the medical school, would have shamed them on the spot. It would have shamed the other sister, too, but looking at her now, she saw that Meg was crying now, the tears streaming down both cheeks like perfect straight rivers. "I'm...sorry," she choked out, looking down then and staring at her own lemonade, unsure if she should drink it now because of what she was feeling. "I don't know...what to say."

"You don't have to." Katherine didn't expect her to.

"It explains why I never...resembled that woman who I thought was my mother. I think now, maybe that's why she killed herself when I was fourteen." Meg's lips pursed into a tight line of rage and betrayal. "How could Daddy do this to me? To _you_?" she choked out. "And to...Mother." The way she spoke the title was alien to herself.

"I wish I had the better way of answering, but families never keep secrets from each other. He lied to you for your own sake, but mostly to protect himself and his own reputation," Katherine seethed. "He kept you and I from seeing each other, from you knowing your birth mother and me." She pointed to herself for emphasis. "Mom currently lives in the retirement home, if you're wondering." Meg nodded but said nothing.

"He said he loved me, but he prevented me from meeting my real mother and my sister," she spoke softly after a long pause. "I feel like I don't know him or myself anymore. I've said yes to him all these years, even after Mama died, said yes for the sake of it because I was afraid of losing his support." Her teeth tightened. "And I said yes to marrying my own professor whom I saw only as an uncle figure because I couldn't find another that my father didn't want me around."

Katherine hated seeing her like this, so she reached out and placed her hand on Meg's. To her surprise, the other sister didn't pull away. "I don't approve of any of that, but I want you to promise me something. You need to stand up and tell him no, someday eventually. You're a woman now, and you're in charge of making your own destiny. I've always been in charge of mine, never relying on anyone else, and look where I am now." She smiled at her, but Meg's barely reached her eyes.

"I'm at the top of my classes, but I'm still under my father's care; Carl is in charge of my grants and scholarship coming up. I'll lose it all if I say no, lose everything I have. Where will I go then, Katherine?" she asked fearfully. Katherine sighed and shook her head.

"Come home to me and Crawford then. We're the only family you have now, and he's more than ready to get to know you." She paused there, now thinking about Herbert still at the Halsey house. "And Herbert, how is he now?"

"He's the same as ever. I barely see him outside school; most of the time, he's always in his room with the door closed, and sometimes in our basement doing God knows what," Meg answered tightly. "I don't even know what he's up to, but he said his...'work' requires privacy."

Katherine ticked slightly. The last time she and Herbert spoke, he'd told her that the animal subjects he'd snuck away were violent as ever, nothing much changed, and he still had yet to convince Meg to get involved. Katherine knew risks had to be taken in these things, because all her experiments with her patients had required the same, though one she remembered all too well was Pretorius, who lived for his work and barbarous joys in the "red room". "He's...on the verge of a great breakthrough," she said carefully. "He's onto something that could revolutionize medicine. But that's really his decision to tell you."

Meg stared at her, baffled, even when the food finally arrived. "You know what he's up to?" she asked. "Does this have to do with his professor in Switzerland, Dr. Hans Gruber? I know about his work about breaking the barrier of brain death."

Katherine nodded as she unfolded her napkin and placed it on her lap like a proper lady. "Involves that, yes. But like I said, he won't let anyone else in because he's missing something that he needs access to, and he was considering you about it." She stopped there, mentally smacking herself for letting that slip. "I'm afraid I've said too much, but please trust me that he's gone beyond Dr. Gruber and that bastard Dr. Hill," she said, laughing with her sister. That stopped the conversation right there for now, the topics changing to other things like their careers, but Katherine knew that, deep down, Meg was planning on digging into Herbert's background. She wouldn't be surprised if Meg would find out the truth eventually if she hadn't...but it also made her fear losing their budding relationship once Meg uncovered what happened in Zurich.

~o~

Meg felt like her whole body had stopped working altogether when she read Herbert West's file in Daddy's office near the end of the day. She'd made the excuse that she'd left a book in her father's office before he left, but when the substitute was leaving for a quick run, she snuck her chance to the file labeled **WEST, HERBERT**...and all hell broke loose then when she found out what really happened in Switzerland.

"Oh, God," she moaned when she closed the file in her car, staring at her house for a long time, unable to move or breathe at the present.

He'd lied to her about "no more I could learn". She knew there was something off about him from the very beginning – correction, _insane_ – and WHY did she find herself thinking he was so attractive? Dr. Hans Gruber died of a heart attack in his own classroom last spring, barely starting to summer, and his star student and assistant, Herbert West, was present. For hours after that, he...did things to the body, causing a life-like animated reaction that the dean called the police and had him taken to the local psychiatric hospital, where he remained for two months until _Dr. Katherine McMichaels_ came to retrieve him, bringing him back to Arkham where he was now continuing his schooling.

 _And living in the same house as her and her father._

Her hands found themselves gripping the steering wheel once again, her knuckles turning white and sweat on the rise, Meg's breathing becoming hoarse and labored. God, Daddy...what the hell was he thinking, letting that man live here, if he knew what happened? And what was _Katherine_ thinking, bringing him back here? But then Meg remembered her successful cures of schizophrenia, but West didn't have that – did he? A schizophrenic wouldn't have the delusion of breaking the brain death barrier, right? Meg wasn't a psychiatrist, but she knew full well that the answer to that was no. West just...he kept to himself and clashed with Hill in front of her and the other students so bravely, without a care in the world. He accused Carl of plagiarizing Gruber's theories and ideas, so...did this mean he was here because he was trying to show the world he knew better than Carl Hill did, because he himself had been taught so well, worked alongside a legendary scientist for so many years?

She'd just got back from another long day at the hospital, she wouldn't have to deal with Carl for awhile, and she'd also just learned about how Marianne Halsey, the woman with an unstable mental state and took it out on her own daughter, was never her real mother. Her own father lied to her all her life; he had an affair with another woman and produced twin daughters – and separated them so he could take one, but it worsened his wife's condition when she learned of his cheating of her. Perhaps it justified her unable to have children of her own that he had been with someone else and got one of the twins born – but it was still inexcusable to keep one twin girl oblivious about her true mother and her sister all her life until she found out for herself.

For years, Megan Halsey admired the works of Katherine McMichaels, felt like they were somehow related in actually caring about the patients enough to save them, if in different fields. She was her sister and therefore one half of her now that she knew it. Meg wanted her in her life now, wanted to see her more and make up for lost times, but what would her father say if he found out?

She finally found it in her to leave the Chevy and lock it safely before marching up to her house. West wasn't home, as usual. Now that she knew his background, what was he hiding that she didn't know about? What did he have in his room – and what did he do in the basement? She had to be careful when she tread the waters; West was clearly insane and intense, and he could very much do something to her in order to protect his secrets.

On the other hand, he was here for a reason, and therefore he might not harm her because he knew that since she was the dean's daughter and his most hated rival's betrothed, people would look for her and find out he was responsible. What did he want of her then?

She made way for the kitchen, dropping West's file on the counter and heading for the fridge for a glass of orange juice mostly because she needed it for the sake of it, and paused as soon as she opened the door.

"Rufus?" Meg frowned, closing the door. That was strange. Rufus normally greeted her when she arrived; he would also knock something over, something that would make her father angry if he ever found out. She tried telling herself he was around, just hiding somewhere as usual...but her other self persisted in searching the house. She called for him again. Still nothing. Assuming he was in her room, she went upstairs to check there. Once again, nothing. Scoffing, Meg turned to leave and check Daddy's room instead...and stopped when a sudden tightness wrapped around her heart with the knowing pressure of _West's room_ behind her.

Maybe Rufus was _there._

Slowly turning around, Meg stared at the closed door for a few moments, the same frown once more pulling at her face. No, Rufus couldn't be there; Herbert made it loud and clear that he wouldn't allow her pet anywhere near his private sanctuary, but she had to be sure. Perhaps if her cat was there, then maybe she could sneak around there for more proof of his mysterious life before he got back from pushing bodies around in the morgue. She remembered wondering why on earth he would be doing that, given his perfect background in Europe – before she decided maybe he was doing that to cover up his real motives for being here.

West's room was just as broad as hers, but didn't furnish much besides the bed, still having a few boxes lying around, shelves of books, and a couple posters detailing the anatomies of the human body and the brain. And there was also the refrigerator lying to the left side of the bed, which faced her...and was slightly cracked opened, letting loose a sinister, luminous green glow that wasn't anything she was familiar with. That terrible feeling in her heart, now spreading to her whole body, worsened as she knelt down and opened the door before letting it go and finish opening on its own...

"Oh, God, Rufus...!"

"What are you doing in my room?" She spun around and stood up fast, gasping and shrieking at the same time, getting away from Rufus' carcass in the fridge and landing on the bed, looking up in horror at the sight of Herbert West, the room's owner, seething down at the unwanted sight of her. "How DARE you come into my room? I thought I was renting this for privacy, Megan."

She found it in her to stand and stick her chin out at him. "It's not considered privacy when I happened to be searching for my cat only to find him in your fridge." She nodded to the still opened door. West, however, gave no emotion, his scowl remaining in place, then raising it to fix it on her again. Meg burned again under its pressure, his green eyes flaming with the savagery of a raging fire. She returned it dauntlessly. "Would you mind telling me why you killed my cat and put him in your refrigerator?" she demanded, knowing no other way. "He hated you, I know that for sure. He was terrified of you."

His body stiffened, face unchanged. "I did _not_ kill your feline. He was dead when I found him."

She gritted her teeth. "You're such a liar. Daddy and I let you live with us, I spend the day with my newly found twin sister only to come home and find my cat dead and in here of all places," she spat, motioning behind her. "If you didn't kill him, then what happened?"

Herbert's face softened, slightly. "It knocked the garbage over and got its head stuck in a jar," he answered. His swing from stern and angry changed to soft and sympathetic in a matter of seconds, whipping her like a cat-o-nine tails and catching her off. "You weren't home, so I simply put it in there. I certainly didn't think you'd want to find it like that. I did not want to stink the place up. I swear to you, I _was_ going to show you."

Alright, she could see that he would never lie to her about anything, but it still did not erase what happened or WHY he couldn't tell her at the hospital right away. "And you couldn't even call or at least leave me a note?" she accused, making him angry again.

"I was busy pushing bodies around, Meg, as you must have known before," he replied. "And what would I have said in a note? 'Cat dead, details later?' What good would that have done if you had more questions on your mind? I'm sorry you had to come to this. I know you were fond of it, but I wasn't. That doesn't mean I would ever kill it, as you accuse me of."

And they said words hurt like a rose with thorns. He was the thorn in her side at this very moment. "Whatever. I don't know if I believe you or not, but when Daddy comes home –"

He interrupted her with a sharp fit of laughter. "Oh, run to Daddy, eh? A grown woman running to her father when she can't deal with this herself? You think running off to him would make you any more of a woman than you seem to be?" he sneered.

Her temper snapped, but she forced it to hold. He knew how to get under her skin. He made her blood boil, no matter how soft-featured and how much intelligence he possessed...and that intelligence including knowing which buttons in a person to push. Forcing herself away so she could stare down at Rufus in the fridge, she could still feel his eyes on her, but he said no more.

He _was_ right. She relied on her father too much. But it was all for a reason; if she said no or defied him, who knew what he would do to her future then. She blamed him now for how her life turned out; she'd lived lies all this time, and now it was even more since Rufus was dead. West said he didn't kill him, but she wasn't sure if she would believe it. She wasn't there so –

And then her eyes fell on the source of the dismal green glow: a vial of a brilliant green fluid. "I think you'd better leave now," Herbert ordered behind her defensively. Picking it up, Meg now saw this as something...unauthorized and illegal. Perhaps THIS was what she'd been looking for all along, something that would get him into trouble and out of here off campus so fast his head would spin. She stood and was about to demand what the hell this green shit was before he snatched it out of her hands. "THAT...is none of your business."

"Oh, I think it _is_ my business," Meg started furiously.

"As it was your business to read my file that you stole from Daddy's office?"

Her whole body felt like it had been frozen in the cryogenics chamber. Damn her, had she known he was coming back so soon, she would have taken it upstairs with her and hid it. "What I do in my father's office..."

"...is known as trespassing," West answered, his lips curling into a demented smirk to one side, and now she was ready to lose control and smack his perfect face and leave a mark there. "I'd hate to bring this in and report that the dean's little princess – and the school's most promising – stole this when nobody was looking, have her suffer the consequences on moral grounds."

Meg seethed; how dare he blackmail her into protecting his secret, whatever this was?! "You really think Daddy would expel me for this? Unlike you when I get through to him as soon as he returns."

"Oh, will you?" He gave a short nod, though he didn't really believe her. "Well, you may well be right." He tilted his head forward, that smile back once more. "Are you sure you want to find out, Miss Halsey, that he would really see you as his little darling once he learns how bad you've been lately? Sneaking around and meeting a twin sister he tried so hard to keep you away from? That you read private student records without his permission?" He leaned in closer so she could smell his breath; it wasn't bad, but it was hot on her face that she shivered involuntarily.

"Or that you're about to take another step down forbidden roads you should have watched out for?"

 **Everybody, get your seatbelts in place; this is going to be an even bumpier ride. ;) The tension between these two was just too irresistible.**


	11. Bleed, I Must Be Dreaming

Chapter Ten

Bleed, I Must Be Dreaming

Megan glared up at him with more fire than he'd seen in her. She was his match, and he loved nothing more than a good challenge. But she said nothing more, instead closing her mouth tight and turning to kneel down and gather her dead cat into her arms, standing again and striding past him without another glance. Herbert smiled as he followed her to the door, staring after her – and accidentally, her firm backside – as she stalked down the stairs. He knew where she was going to put Rufus now, and he shook his head.

"Garbage to garbage," he muttered before closing the door, alone once more. He was still fuming; how dare she come into his room after he warned her not to? Just because she was the dean's daughter did not give her the right to invade someone else's private space. But she was looking for her cat, his other self reminded him, and this was the final place she'd have looked anyway. But still, she ought to show some respect as he showed her. He wouldn't go around intruding someone else's sanctuary for his reasons.

He did feel sympathy for her; he knew how much she loved that cat, and he actually would never admit the truth that he did indeed kill Rufus, but the damn creature invaded his privacy for the last time. Animals were nuisances. Though he tried reminding himself not everyone was like him this way; Meg adored the feline, so another part of him was guilty enough to make the decision which was the byproduct of the bottle of his creation, still safe and warm in his hand. Which Meg had the nerve to question him.

Perhaps now was the time, he decided, the smile tightening. She found his re-agent, saw Rufus in his fridge – but most of all, since she knew about what happened in Switzerland with his poor mentor, and that her sister was in on saving him from the institution – and she deserved to know about this. Herbert knew how devastated she was about losing a life as well as he when he lost Gruber, so why not? And Katherine always wanted to see it really happen, so perhaps she deserved to see it, too.

And Crawford...Herbert had the feeling he wouldn't like what he saw, especially after what happened to his own superior.

~o~

 _So soft, so warm...but so cold now that she was drawn from her slumber. Something cold and hard was aganst her back. She frowned as she tried to move but found she couldn't. It was like she was dead and now in what would be seen as the "living death"; she was still alive, but paralyzed for life and perceived as literally dead to the world. In time they would have forgotten her and left her alone forever, buried alive in the ground. She was on the verge of screaming as much as it would be useless..._

 _...until she felt something extremely slim, to the point of not being there at all, brought down to the middle of her chest_ – _her heart_ – _and then something cold coursing through her streams with the speed and intensity of subzero waters let loose from a broken glacier, soon turning to torrid and tropical when she felt her body buzz to life, to a point where she felt her limbs' nerves charge with new life._

 _Testing her eyelids, she saw that she could finally open them, and when she did, she glimpsed a blue sky mirroring her eyes, as well as streaks of white clouds if not the puffy ones on the first day of spring. The most exquisite smells of tea reached her nostrils, and looking around, she saw that she was surrounded by an endless sea of red roses, their velvety petals tinted silver at the tips and waving softly in the winds. That wasn't all she saw, though. Looking down, she saw that she lay completely naked on a table she knew too well: a gurney. Frowning now and slowly raising her arms to stretch, bending at the elbows, she wondered why she was here and on a gurney of all things. And what had just happened to her?_

 _At the same time, she felt happy and alive. There was nobody else out here but her_ – _and an indefinable awareness that felt so good and so wrong at the same time traveling through her rejuvenated body like a drug, namely a love drug also known as an aphrodisiac. Was THAT what it was? She didn't remember ever feeling like this before, and it certainly was beyond her control. Looking up again, she saw who had brought forth this impeccable response in her anatomy._

 _He was clad in a white lab coat which hid every curve, every part of his body, smiling roguishly as he held up the empty hypodermic needle in his left hand. There was the slightest trace of remnants of that_ green stuff _which she had no idea was...and then it dawned on her how "dead" she felt that she now felt alive again. "Welcome back, Miss Halsey," he crooned, his luminous eyes behind the wide spectacles reflecting the faint glow of green in his hand, which he slipped back into his coat pocket and leaned over. "And how are we feeling now?"_

 _Her voice came out softer than she wanted it to be, but she managed past her esophagus just fine. "Fine...I guess..." Another look down at her body and his hands were moving now, starting at the ends which were her toes, tickling them as well as her feet, making her giggle. "West, what are you doing?!"_

 _"A physical examination is in order, I believe," he told her. "We can't be certain you are physically well enough for the next step."_

 _"Next step?" she repeated, baffled, shuddering when his hands, warm, soft and slender, now massaged and smoothed over her legs, the slim fingers gripping the firm flesh of her thighs, now getting close to a certain part which was bothering her but felt so superb that she wanted his hands there_ – _and her mind was also warning her that she belonged to another man. Another man arranged for her with her father whom she wasn't sure if she loved anymore after all her life of secrets and lies. This man above her whom she thought deranged and brilliant at the same time...he was invigorating her whole body in a way she never felt before in two decades of life._

 _"Herbert..." Finally, to say his name just did the trick._

 _"Yes?" He lifted a delicate eyebrow at her._

 _"Touch me higher," she whispered, shifting her hips in his hands. By higher, she actually meant between her legs, and he knew it, looking down there briefly before shaking his head._

 _"Soon." He traveled higher than that, ghosting over her stomach and his thumb teasing her navel enough to make her giggle again; it wasn't funny, but it felt good enough to make her laugh and tell him she liked his version of "physical examination". Then further north to where her breasts were, the tips dark pink and erect for his hungry eyes. Giggling like a madman, West's fingers cupped her breasts underneath and then over, fondling them for a few moments and making her moan, the wet heat between her thighs getting stronger and to the pulsing point which needed help before she lost her mind._

 _She did it then when Herbert leaned in close enough to briefly peck his lips against hers. They were soft like the petals of the roses around them, thinner than hers but so perfect. She never took him interested in coupling, now that they were getting beyond this point. Meg whimpered and bucked her body upwards against his, still covered by the lab coat. "Damn it, Herbert, will you just take me now?" she growled, grabbing him by the lapels of his coat, making him chuckle deeply and shake his head._

 _"Hungry for more, eh? Just as it should be. All right then, the doctor won't let his patient suffer any longer." With that, he stood back up and reached to draw open his coat then and let it drop, be carried away elsewhere and him alone with her. She gasped and raised her arms to either side of her head. Herbert was just as naked as she was, and so slender and angelic, not the brawny type other girls dreamed of, but he wasn't attractive in that manner. He knew which key points in the body to get going, and he did it to her. Now he was covering her body with his once more, leaning down to capture her lips with his again, one hand on the right side of her face and cupping her cheek as he deepened the kiss. His other hand trailed down her body, briefly smoothing over her breast and then her stomach, finally reaching the source of her hunger. She squeaked when his meticulous fingers probed through the curls and found her dripping arousal. "That's it there, Meg; you're such a good patient. Now the doctor will treat you." With that said, he slowly slid down her body and lowered his mouth to her need._

 _She cried then, out of joy as pure as the sky above them, his teeth and tongue eating and drinking at her like a dog. She writhed beneath him, closing her eyes, moaning and gasping; she had never been with a man in her life, and she had professed to being scared of this one, but he was also so wonderful at making her feel so alive and energized...so living and refreshed like these roses..._

 _...but then it all ended when she gently closed her legs around his head, not to crush but simply because the nerves were responsible. She felt something hot and glutinous beneath her legs, and while she felt his head and_ –

No body.

 _She screamed when she finally opened her eyes, legs jerking wide open the same time she jolted upright. Herbert's head lay there between her legs, the whole face still alive and moving, still taking his snack out of her. His body, however, was nowhere to be found. Blood spread beneath them both, and was beginning to pour and spray from the roses all around them, the sky changing from pure, crystal blue to an exuberant lavender and eventual blend of purple and pomegranate...finally to a maddening crimson. Meg screamed more then, the garden of blissful Eden forgotten and replaced by Satan's realm of pain._

 _And the head of her lover was speaking to her._

 _"We all live," he rasped, blood dribbling down his chin and grinning like a skull, "but never will we ever die..."_

~o~

Screaming, Meg bolted upright and saw that she was surrounded by darkness and covered safe and sound. She was home, with the man of her "desire" nowhere in sight, nowhere near her. She was in her own bed, wearing her black and white satin nightgown with lace above the bust, sweating slightly from both heat and fear from the sweet dream/nightmare – what had brought that dream on?

She supposed her cat in the garbage for now as well as that mysterious green liquid in West's fridge were to blame, but why would this all be so...risqué? So arousing only for it to turn bad in the end? Looking over at her clock, it was two in the morning. She was going to have a bad day tomorrow if she didn't get any sleep. There were few times she woke sweating and unable to sleep unless she relieved herself. This time, however, was different. Meg felt an aching below her stomach that wasn't just simple post-wet-death dream. She laughed at the pun of a term, but it was no laughing matter when she thought of the man involved.

Meg had awoken early in the morning from an unexpected racy dream in which she had kinky, sort of medical sex with the man who killed her cat and stowed his carcass in his bedroom fridge, locked away previously in the nuthouse for doing something to his professor's body, and living with her and her father, the dean. Not to mention being Dr. Carl Hill's main protestor against his theories. For some reason, she was beginning to think that maybe Herbert was right about him, because how would Carl be linked to Hans Gruber then? He was up to something, and somehow, in her dream, it involved bringing something to life...somehow...

She would have to worry about that another time, before Daddy and Carl returned home. Right now, her main problem was her bothersome stimulation. Turning and rolling onto her stomach, she slid her right hand down and found her exposed area right away; she did not sleep with underwear on because it aired out to prevent the normal bacteria. She tugged on her pubic hair and then scratched the skin beneath because it was first things first, then moved further in to find her moist opening and hitching her breath when her fingers found her clit, the sensitive skin shooting to life with pleasure and picking up with every stroke and scratch without making herself bleed.

When it was over, the wave of orgasm relaxed her body at once, but before she could find it in her to fall back asleep, there was the most horribly, inhuman noise she had ever heard in her life, and her whole body burst back to life when she jumped out of bed and grabbed her matching robe at the foot of her bed. She then reached into her nightstand to her right and opened the top right drawer which held her small pistol. Daddy allowed her to have one for self-defense reasons only. She filled every chamber she could before stepping out into the hallway with her weapon in hand for the unseen "uninvited guest".

She was going to have a very bad day then if she didn't end this and went back to sleep. Nobody and nothing upstairs. Meg found herself looking in the direction of Herbert's room, wondering if he was doing something in there, since what else? Knocking a few times, she called, "Herbert? Did you hear that?" No answer, so she knocked again. "West!" Damn it, and then she heard the noise again, and a new assumption: _the basement._

The door was locked as expected, but the noise DID come from there. What the hell was Herbert doing down there, and what was making that God-awful noise? Angrily, she shoved her body against the door a few times – and she fell down the flight of stairs in a painfully fast rhythm which left her body in numbing pain, her skirt riding up to show her business, but she forced herself to move to cover herself up in time when Herbert suddenly came out from the darkness that the swinging overhead light casted.

"MEG!" he shouted at the top of his lungs, over the beastly cries she heard once more, screeching worse than bats – and when Herbert turned around, she saw the unmistakable figure of a black cat on his back, viciously tearing his shirt apart so it could get to his tender skin. She began to panic; at least she knew what the commotion was, but what could she do? She couldn't shoot at it without accidentally shooting Herbert –

"Get out of here!" His voice forced her to act fast right after he knocked over the set up of glassware and test tubes on the table, collapsing to the floor in the struggle. " _Get it off of me!_ " he howled, finally tearing the thing off him and throwing it away from them. There was a crash before scurrying was heard. Meg tried to search with him where it went, finger on the trigger.

She looked back over to Herbert, who had grabbed a shovel and used it as his own weapon of choice. Where the hell was this thing she thought was a cat? There was no way it could be a cat in any shape or form; cats attacked, but like this? She'd never encountered one like this in her life. She and Herbert crouched together like a pair of ninjas, a tense silence save for the creaks of the overhead light, and she felt her heart pound harder and faster than it had ever done before, worse than those days in the emergency room trying to get the heart of another person going again.

Meg shrieked as she saw the black mess too late, and she was thrown backwards into a pile of untouched boxes, losing her hold on her handgun. Sharp claws got her wrist as she tried to shove it off before she managed to grab a hold of it and turned to throw it into the air. A horrible _splat_ was heard, and the yowling was heard no more.

She lay there for a few moments, staring at the blood on the wall before letting her gaze fall to the thing on the floor. Standing up, she moved closer to investigate...and gasped sharply when she immediately recognized _Rufus._ "Oh, God," she choked, finding it in her to slowly turn around to face West, who still had the shovel in his hands, his face showing no emotion before it transformed quickly into sheer panic, and he pointed past her.

"Look out!" She whipped her body around again to where the cat lay, but it was still dead as it was.

She had to still be asleep and dreaming then, because she remembered very clearly that Rufus was dead only earlier; she didn't remember getting a pulse or breath out of him, even though she wasn't a vet. His joints and everything were stiff; live things were never that stiff. But if he was dead, then why was he alive moments ago and attacking both her and Herbert?

Who by the way was laughing behind her at this very moment. Meg slowly turned back and glared at him. Why was he laughing like a crazy man? Oh, wait, maybe he was truly crazy enough that Katherine should have left him in the nuthouse...

She paused right there. Katherine was a compassionate soul as she was, and she would never allow a crazy person roam free like that. She'd brought Herbert back to the states for a reason that Meg had yet to put two and two together. Looking at him more closely, with him still laughing over what he thought was a good way to lighten it up when it actually hadn't, Meg realized he _wasn't_ crazy. Just excited. Giddy. But WHY?

"Why is this so funny to you?" she demanded, standing over him as he collapsed to the floor, sitting on his behind.

He tried stifling his laughter when he answered her. "Because it is," he answered simply.

She scoffed. "Seriously, I was awoken early in the morning only to find Rufus alive and attacking us in the basement. I think you owe me an explanation now."

Herbert's laughter ceased altogether. His eyes matched his returning scowl behind his glasses. "Oh, I believe tonight was the whole point." He stood up and dropped the shovel; the tool hit the floor with a clanging noise. Herbert dusted himself off and walked over to pick up Rufus and carry him over to the table where his notes and some equipment were. Meg recognized them all from the school, and her fury was back on fire. So she _was_ right; he was doing illegal experimentation! She could definitely get Daddy on him as soon as he returned home, but then her body moved of its own volition as she joined him at the table. "You wanted to know what this was all about," Herbert stated, putting his notebook in front of them both. "This is all what I started with Dr. Gruber before he died, all of which was Hill's fault, the reason I am here."

She lifted an eyebrow. "Okay, what does Carl have to really do with this?"

"He and Hans were schoolmates and colleagues eventually, but let's just say for short that Hill's genius IQ was no better in exceeding Gruber's, who did actual work on his own and made it into the world, but Hill was the lesser one despite being respected himself, but his ideas are so few new, such as his laser drill which as you know is already known in many countries. But that's beside the point. He stole Gruber's work and passed it off as his own. Gruber's weak heart couldn't stand it that he died in my arms, not long before making me promise him to take Hill down and reclaim what was ours."

Staring into his eyes – those soft green orbs which bore manic but also honesty and the ability to pierce through your being – she saw that he wasn't lying. Or was it out of her own inability to love Carl Hill more than just the uncle he served as since her childhood? She remembered all those times Carl was unable to teach the class anything new, so there was no disagreement there, but there were so many teachers in the world who did that. It had been that way all her life, but that was, as West said, beside the point. She started to officially think that maybe Herbert wasn't that insane after all; he knew exactly what he was doing, and he didn't kill his Swiss professor. "What was the purpose of your research with him?" she asked, tearing her eyes away to look down at the table, avoiding Rufus' body at all costs.

"Well, it's really quite simple," he answered proudly, taking on a new dimension of passion. "All life is a physical and chemical process. A true scientist should never believe in an unseen God and afterlife. So, therefore, it stands to reason that if one could find _extremely_ fresh specimens and recharge that chemical process –" He slapped his palm flat on the table for emphasis with the next word. "– bang. We have re-animation then."

Re-animation...a dead thing brought back to life...it was too good to be true, but it was in no way different than what he was just telling her about her fiancée minutes ago. "The theory isn't new, West. Ernest Haeckel believed along with Darwin that the world started as an evolutionary process."

He sighed in exasperation. "Your sister said the same thing. No, the theory isn't new, but my re-agent _is_ ," he insisted. "That's what the green serum is. Now read before I go on." He pushed his notes in front of her that she stared down at dumbfounded for a moment. Meg still didn't believe that any of this was real, that she was just having another bad dream she wanted nothing more than to wake up from...

"'With various animating solutions,'" she started finally, "'I have killed and brought to animated life another of rabbits, guinea pigs, cats and dogs.'" She sucked in a breath and paused. This was enough to tell her that he didn't like animals, but why? Megan looked up when he spoke again.

"I've broken the six to twelve minute barrier that your _fiancée_ ," he spat, "worships. I've bypassed the irreversible conclusion of brain death. I've _conquered_ it."

Brain death had been researched into for years, new answers coming in every day, but Carl Hill's six to twelve minute limit was the latest that he made clear was the evident end to it, but now with this...Meg looked down and finished. "'With the increase strength of each solution, the reaction has become more violent, and therefore my research has become more difficult.'"Why was it that she found it hard to believe that Rufus was never dead all this time? It was possible that – she stopped there when she realized why Herbert West was here all along. "You need _me_ to help you in this."

"That most certainly is the reason I'm here," he answered vigorously. "You are the perfect person to assist me. You're the dean's daughter, hardworking and bright, and you have access to certain...authorities." She knew he was talking about the corpses in the morgue, and her stomach churned. More so when she looked back into his eyes, which were flaring with the fire of the brightest star. "Think of it, Meg." His hand reached to grasp hers in his; her heart thumped again as the nerves jolted. "We can _defeat_ death. Achieve every doctor's dream, be famous...and live LIFETIMES."

Oh, God, the dream she longed for. Every day when she saw people dying, losing any one of them when they were brought in for the purpose of care and renewal, only for half of them to die from extensive injuries like fatal vehicle crashes and so on...none of that was right in any way. It was a wonderful dream, yes, but with these violent reactions and him failing to save Dr. Gruber...she pulled her hand from his. "You tried to save Gruber." He nodded, face still alight with wanting to know if she was in or not. "But you haven't done this on another person since then."

He shook his head and looked away, around their surroundings which was her basement. "I've done all I can here. I'll need new lab space." He looked back at her expectantly. "You _will_ help me, will you?"

"No." Why did she say that? She saw what happened here, but it was night and she wasn't having a good one, either. And she couldn't say he was mad either because of this. But another would.

"Why?" he mocked. "Because it's mad? That _I'm_ mad as the doctors in Zurich said I was?"

Meg faced him square. "No, because as much as I want to believe you, I don't. In fact, I don't think Rufus was ever dead to begin with. For all I know, you drugged him and reduced his vital signs, lowered his body temperature. He couldn't have been dead." But how could he have done all those things? Drugged him was possible, yes, but lowering his body temperature and vital signs?

He picked up Rufus in both hands. "Well, then, would you agree that he's dead now?" He dropped him back onto the table; she couldn't answer, but she did now. "Do you agree he's dead now?" Herbert repeated with more force.

"Yes, I do," she snapped finally. "So what's your plan now that you have me involved now?" In response, he stood up and crossed over to the fridge, grabbing yet _another_ vial of the vivid green re-agent and another syringe. She moaned. "Oh, no, you're bringing him back again."

He nodded. "I'll show you once more, and then you'll help me. This is precisely why I brought your infernal beast back to life in the first place." He checked the amount one more time – Meg couldn't tell if the dosage was four or five, but it seemed an animal didn't take that much – before leaning over the dead cat and stuck the needle into the back of its neck. Knowing the anatomy very well, she guessed at the top of the spinal cord which began with –

"In the brain."

Herbert smirked. "Of course. You're catching up well, Halsey. Daddy will surely be proud of you now, once he sees that you've begun to find a better cause." He finished the injection before plucking it from the neck and moved over to stand close to her, his body nearly touching hers. Heat splashed through her again; how could he do this to her when Carl didn't? She knew the answer long before now and had said it to herself so many times:

Because she did not love Carl that way.

Meg frowned then. Wait, why love? She didn't love Herbert West, or did she? She knew for sure she was now attracted to him in a kind of sexual way, but how would she know when she was still a virgin, relying only on masturbation and fantasies that never really happened? Never been with a man in her life? "Don't expect it to tango," he spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "It has a broken back."

To her horror – and astonishment – as the one thing she never thought was indeed possible in real life, seen only in the stories and media, happened before her own two eyes. The jaw was still opened enough for the uncanny yowling began to return to life as the body began to twitch and snap, the back broken as he'd said. It was the most horrific sight she'd ever seen. "God," she gagged, "why does it make that _noise?_ "

"Birth is always painful," he answered with a smile gracing his features.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could take this any longer; this was so incredible! He'd actually brought a dead animal – her _cat_ – back to life! Now she was thinking about just how many people they could save. "It was DEAD!" she exclaimed, finally looking back at his face, seeing that it had not changed in the course of Rufus' second re-animation.

"Twice." A dark intensity enflamed his eyes, stronger than she'd ever seen before. It was frightening, dangerous...but also exciting. She was craving for more of that, the screeching of the undead cat still echoing in front of them. For a long time, she had never known anything like this, and it had scared her to even dare slip past barriers that should never be crossed. They said the forbidden stuff was always the best, and she could feel it in her body as she burned under those intense eyes. She craved for more of it; her nipples felt like they were getting hard again, the sensitivity shooting to her stomach.

She'd just taken her first step into a much larger, darker world than the one she'd been living in.

 **I suppose no words needed to describe how Meg is feeling for Herbert now. :) Nothing better can describe this kind of dark passion.**


	12. Like You

Chapter Eleven

Like You

Herbert had to call him and Katherine at two in the morning, and they got to the Halsey house as fast as they could. Crawford didn't know why it couldn't wait until morning, but with his cousin it was never simple. Not even when it involved a certain cat of the daughter of the house brought back to life. He cursed when he finally parked the car, getting a look of warning from Katherine. They were both still mostly in their sleepwear, he in his Miskatonic shirt paired with jeans now, and she in her long coat thrown over her soft blue pajamas since it was still late.

Herbert had left the front door unlocked for them, telling them both that Meg knew now and would be present with the re-animation of the cat once called Rufus. How could he do this to an innocent animal? And it was MEG'S pet! Herbert never had the best experience with animals; his parents wouldn't even let him have one so he would never knew what it was like to have a pet companion, and they never let Crawford have one either because they were simply messy creatures, but he never thought so. Damn them for drilling that into Herbert.

Horrible screeching noises sounded from the main foyer, making them both stop in their tracks. "Did you hear that?" Katherine asked.

He nodded. "In the basement, as he said." And the basement it was, for when they made their way for it without any trouble, the door was already opened and showing the flight of stairs. Meg and Herbert were down there at the table, as well as -

"Oh, my God, it's alive!" Katherine shrieked happily, ignoring the mangled, bloody feline writhing and yowling hideously on the table and was just going around Crawford, down the stairs, but he wouldn't let her anywhere near that thing. He stopped her with his arms wrapped around her and held her struggling in his arms. Meg whipped around and saw them, rising fast and hurrying up to join them and closing the door behind her but not shutting all the way. "Megan, did you see that?! I told you!"

"You hinted it, but it was –" She paused as she tried for the right words. "Incredible!" she exclaimed. "He actually overcame physical death! He's not crazy as they said he was in Switzerland; he tried saving Gruber's life, and you got him out of there to finish it!" She was looking into her sister's eyes with a new excitement Crawford felt unnerved by; how did Herbert do this to her so easily?

"You see, Crawford?" All three turned at the sudden appearance of Herbert, face taut but smiling slightly. "Seeing is believing."

"I remember," he returned. "But how will you get past the way that _thing_ is now?" He doubted it would get any better than that.

Herbert's pupils dilated. "I'd need a human specimen, of course."

~o~

Brain death was described as irreversible, lacking all physical and life-like activity. There was nothing more to be done via charge paddles, nothing more than drugs and surgery when all options fail...but not anymore. Meg went through her day in a state of elation and good moods, much to the delight yet baffle of Dr. Harrod. "Why, you're in a good mood today," she noted when Meg came in to help check on Tiffany Bateman, who had yet to be released and set as Katherine's patient. "She's still managing," Joan informed her. "But we put her in sedation a couple times to keep her stable."

"When's she to be released?" Meg asked.

"Later this afternoon. Dr. McMichaels will come and get her. You ready for Mr. Douglas' amputation procedure?" Meg nodded; Ronald Douglas was a student here at Miskatonic and in one of her medicine classes. He'd suffered severe trauma to his left leg after a brutal beating by a gang in the street, his leg mostly. He'd suffered so much damage that the bloodflow was poor, likely an infection to grow, so it was scheduled for surgery today. After the procedure was complete, he would be given a replacement leg as soon as his leg healed. That is if it _does_ heal properly, but chances of otherwise were small. He wouldn't die from it, but Meg wanted him to go through and get his life back on track; he would NEVER walk through life with permanent damage and confined to a wheelchair.

Her boss might be hard at times, but once in awhile Meg felt like she could talk to her about anything. She wondered, though, if she could trust her with her newfound relation. "Joan, did you know Dr. McMichaels is my...?" she asked slowly.

The older woman's eyes met hers. "Sister? Of course, I did." She raised an eyebrow behind her glasses. "When did you figure this out?"

"On Saturday," Meg answered calmly, leaving Miss Bateman's room with her. "We ran into each other at the bridal salon. Then we spoke after we took care of Miss Bateman." She bit her lip. "I still ask myself why Daddy kept this from me, even though I'm told he did it to...protect me," she spat disgustedly, looking back up at Harrod. "Protecting himself, is that what it really is? Keeping me from knowing my real mother and twin sister?"

Harrod stopped first, Meg following suit. "Megan," Joan's voice was firm and low. "He did keep this from you, but it was for his own reasons, I know that. We both know how he is." She put her hand on Meg's shoulder, meant for comfort. "But it was also high time you finally knew her now, so you and her did the right thing finally finding each other." She gave her a reassuring smile. "How about we finish this later and go about the day? Maybe us women get together sometime before your father returns?" she suggested.

Well, this turned out better than she thought it would, but the hardest was yet to come. She nodded. "But telling Daddy is going to be..."

"Harder than now. It is, but remember the longer a secret is kept, the worse it blows up," Harrod reminded her. Oh, she couldn't agree more.

~o~

She hadn't seen her mother for two weeks now, so she felt like she owed her a visit now. And took Meg with her to finally meet her. It was Thursday, and Dean Halsey would return tomorrow afternoon with none other than Dr. Hill. Katherine wasn't looking forward to it one bit, because the pressure was getting to her sister about breaking the news to her father that she finally found out about her other family. She looked forward to giving him a tongue lash no matter what.

The retirement home was on the edge of Arkham, which was a good drive, and by the time the sun was disappearing beneath the horizon, she and Meg finally arrived. Crawford had some work to take care of, and Herbert wasn't exactly the sociable type even though he came along with them. Meg had wanted him to come even though he declined once before, finally giving in when she promised him if there was the chance of their first human specimen coming along. Katherine thought it possible because chances were an elder person could give in while they were there.

But she was also worried that they would get caught, and that would mean the end. She was starting to think more like them now. How could she not? This was her sister, and that man who had been a psychiatric patient for the wrong reasons brought back for a cause.

"Katherine!" the receptionist greeted her with a bright smile when she approached with the two new faces behind her. "And who did you bring with you?" Looking more closely at Meg, her jaw droped. "Oh, my God, is this...?"

"My newfound twin sister Megan," she answered calmly. "Came to finally meet our mother. And this is Herbert, a good friend of ours." She nodded to him, but he gave no real sign of politeness, just gave a brief smile and curt nod before resorting back to chilled aloofness. "How's my mother doing?" she asked. The call she received over the phone was bordered on distressing because her mother's health wasn't good. If she was dying as she feared, then that meant Herbert had to get to it pretty fast or else.

Erin McMichaels was in room 202, second level taken by elevator, and by the time the trio arrived, they were greeted by a room of Old English rose classic blended with up-to-date. Katherine preferred vintage household style any day in contrast to scientific methods and theories reused instead of new ones accepted, by that hardly applied. There was her mother in an oversized sweatshirt and skirt, her soft hair held behind her head with loose strands. She looked like she hadn't actually aged a day, but the troubles of living alone and raising a daughter by herself with the knowledge that her husband would never be released and abandoned by the man who fathered two children of hers – as well as separating them – weakened her independence as well as her heart. Sharp blue eyes looked up from the book she was reading as she sat in the cushioned arm chair beside the bed, facing the door they stood. She gave a warm smile upon seeing her daughter. "Kathy, you finally came." She closed the book and rested it in her lap. "Come here, you. I feel like I haven't seen you in forever."

Finally she noticed the bags under Erin's eyes. She hadn't slept in awhile. "How are you feeling, Mama?" she asked tenderly, kneeling in front of her and taking her hand into hers. Erin's skin was clammy and shaking slightly; the daughter noticed that she was still wearing the white-gold diamond wedding ring from her husband, not wishing to take it off and part from the only memento she had of him.

"Oh, I'm tired but I can't sleep," she answered softly. "Been having headaches more often, and short of breath. I think I may have the cancer now." Katherine's heart wrenched; she hated it when her mother spoke like that. Erin McMichaels was healthy as an ox, never having any problems in her life other than heartburn once. Then her attention shifted to the doorway. "So, who are your – oh!" Her eyes widened when they landed on Meg. The other daughter she never met, never held as a little one or got to see and speak to. "Kathy, is this your –?"

Meg nodded and stepped further into the room. "Yes...Mother." She struggled with the title of the woman she was just meeting. "It's Megan, your daughter."

Erin lifted her other hand which didn't hold Katherine's. "Come here so I can see you." Meg obeyed and kneeled beside her, so Erin's hand touched her cheek. Meg winced slightly at the foreign contact from a complete stranger despite the fact they shared the same blood. "Oh, so beautiful. Just like your sister." Meg's eyes were glazing over as she chewed her lower lip. "If only your father didn't..." She trailed off and shook her head. "So, both my girls are doctors now. I'm so proud of you both," she said with a soft smile.

Meg nodded and returned it. "I'm almost there," she answered. Herbert's shadow fell over them both; he was expressionless as ever. "This is Herbert," Meg told their mother. "A friend of ours."

"Crawford's cousin," Katherine added.

"Pleasure, Mrs. McMichaels," Herbert spoke, as politely as he could manage. He was looking her mother over as though she were an interesting finding, but Erin didn't seem to notice. Meg did, though, but said nothing. Katherine thought maybe he saw her as a chance for a testing and prayed if it happened, her mother would make it through and back into the world alive and well, but also prayed Erin was only mistaken for having cancer.

"We came all this way, and I want to get to know my real mother now," Meg spoke finally, finding the courage. "My father returns tomorrow, and I want to get to know you now while I can before he does."

~o~

Herbert admitted he grew fond of Katherine and Meg's mother. She was very pleasant to a point he wished she was his mother instead of Isabel West. She was so kind to him, patting his hand even when he didn't want her to, but he bit his tongue for her sake and for her daughters. She treated him like a human being, and Meg was being nicer to him now. He wasn't sure if this was because she now started to see through his purpose. She was actually excited when she expressed it to her sister and Crawford; Herbert felt something inside him swell when he heard her say that him bringing her cat back to life was incredible. They'd even discussed it in the car on the way here, and to think of the millions of people they could save, she'd said...Herbert remembered how he'd despised her at first because she reminded him of his mother who hated him just because of his unexpected birth. But the more time he spent with her, her twin and now their mother, it finally settled in his body that not all women were the same as his mother and Dr. Giger in Zurich.

He and Meg hadn't been able to find the right time for the perfect human specimen, mostly because he needed to perfect the re-agent more, but it was more than ready. He was surrounded by elderly people and those who had recently been brought in, like Katherine and Meg's mother. He thought about starting here because anytime an elder could drop dead in their room or somewhere else, and since Meg was a student at the college, she could always bring it in at the school's expense if there were no families.

And just when they were leaving Erin's room, luck favored them as though reading his mind.

Voices were shouting that a resident had passed on. "Get the doctor here!" a younger female voice shouted, apparently a member of the staff. Herbert stood by with the women and watched on before Meg stood and announced them joining. "Take her to the ward fast!"

The person was a white-haired elderly woman in her seventies; possible cause being a stroke. An older African American gentleman in a white coat – the doctor, whose ID read Harold Connors – greeted them all at the door, stopping the trio. "Hold, you three can't be here."

Katherine stepped forth. "Beg your pardon, but I'm Dr. Katherine McMichaels, PhD," she stated. "These are Megan Halsey and Herbert West at Miskatonic University, and on behalf of the medical school, we would love to claim the body of the woman if there are no other relatives to do so." Herbert smiled at her bold, straight-to-the-point attitude even though her field wasn't his and Meg's.

Dr. Connors' face softened then. "Oh, yes, hm." He cleared his throat. "Of course. Please come in then, the three of you." The woman was being settled in even though she was already dead, but examination and attempt of revival was necessary, and Meg volunteered to step in, her fierce determination kicking in much to the surprise of the others in the room.

Watching her, Herbert smiled to himself. This was a woman who loved life enough to save it. She wouldn't let death win the battle. This was exactly who he was, the enemy of death itself, and he sought to eradicate it from this world. Watching as she interlaced her fingers and applied whatever strength she had in her small, lithe build, her chest heaved up and down with every deep breath she took, heat pooling in his own as he could feel his heart thunder as though feeling what she was. At that moment, he wanted to touch those curves and see how they actually felt under his palms, to caress her skin and see exactly how soft it was, run his fingers through her short, shimmering pale hair...

STOP!

But it was already too late. He wasn't sporting anything unwanted down below, but the seed of desire had already been planted. Meg was so beautiful, so gifted yet singled out because of her current status. Her sister had graduated early before intended time and already climbed her way to being a great doctor who made wondrous breakthroughs in psychology; his cousin was a wonderful physicist, exploring the universe's mysteries but treading carefully now since what transpired with his late mentor. Meg wanted to be great, too, as Herbert did. They were both like their relatives, but still trying to be recognized for what they were; alright, Meg was, but that was because despite her being a compassionate and successful student, her daddy was still in charge of her life as much as the man Herbert hated as much as his own mother and the fools in Switzerland. He himself longed to be taken seriously with his own discovery. He wanted to be known as the man who conquered death, treated with as much respect as the woman before him, her sister beside him, and his own cousin.

It was a wonderful dream, but one that hadn't been granted in the essence of time. It was like trading your soul for something greater, the results tasting that much sweeter; he wouldn't so much as face the consequences that came.

His attention was back to Meg now, at her screaming for the paddles to be charged, for the IV being set up. It was like she was in charge instead of Dr. Connors who assisted her. She dared to risk herself getting into trouble just because she was a student, but they didn't question her. She was so strong, yet she didn't have the confidence to stand up to her own father and Hill. Herbert hated them both for making her that way, as much as he hated his mother for making him loathe so many women in his life; he hated her father for using her like a crutch because of his own mistakes in life. Because his wife took her own life.

And because Hill had his daughter as collateral. Herbert was no green-eyed monster, nor was he possessive of anything other than his re-agent, but Meg did not deserve a man he knew she had no feelings for.

"I'm calling it," Dr. Connors announced, but Meg protested. "Miss Halsey, I know you tried; we _all_ tried. But we did everything we could." He said exactly the same words Herbert remembered Dr. Harrod always telling her every time a life was lost.

She looked him hard in the eyes. "Doctor, I'm fighting with everything I have for a reason. No one ever deserves to die; I never stop until the patient is saved at all costs."

He put his hand on her shoulder. "Believe me, I understand. Everyday whenever I lose a patient, I never stop fighting. That's exactly what I'm admiring in you. You'll be a great doctor someday, so keep doing the right thing." He turned behind him to turn off the EKG machine which showed the flatlines. "Alright, prepare her for takeaway."

Herbert had his mouth sealed shut the whole time and finally stepped up. "Doctor, does she have any family to claim her?"

He shook his head. "Mr. West, this is Eva Wilson, seventy-six. She lost her whole family ten years ago, no relatives left." His gaze darted back between him and the girls again. "Why don't you three go ahead and take her to the hospital or the local funeral home, at least?"

They were in luck, yes! Herbert could barely contain his delight; finally a new specimen! But he kept himself stoic on the surface as possible. He could actually read it off of Meg's body language, too; she was fighting to keep a smile off her face, but Connors didn't seem to notice. The sheet was drawn over the body before it was loaded onto a stretcher and wrapped in a body bag. Ready to be put with the others in trash bags to be abandoned and wasted. Oh, not in Herbert's book, no.

"We have it!" he cried to the girls as soon as they were out of the building, wheeling the gurney to the van. "Now onward to business."

"I know!" Katherine agreed, taking her keys out of her coat and pressing the unlock button; the rear and headlights flashed in response. "So when do we start?" she asked as she opened the trunk for him and Meg to haul the heavy bag inside. The poor woman hadn't been dead that long, but it needed to be done fast because the tissue cells didn't get that much fresher every minute that passed.

"Soon as possible," Herbert said, getting into the backseat and picking up the little black bag which held his vial and syringe, as well as the tape recorder. Might as well record the results like a true scientist. But instead of to the hospital right away, and since he made it clear to Meg that he'd done everything he could at her house, there was one other option left that nobody else would learn about that he could sneak in undetected much to the dismay of the owner.


	13. Lies

Chapter Twelve

Lies

"You guys seriously aren't using our basement as a laboratory!" Crawford shouted as Herbert and Meg hauled the body into the house, through the front door. It was a miracle nobody noticed when they pulled into the driveway. "You're so lucky nobody will call the cops on you!"

"Crawford Tillinghast, what did I tell you about raising your voice?" Katherine scolded as she shrugged off her coat to hang on the rack. "They can't do it at the hospital right now; you know that Mace guards the morgue all the time, and Dr. Riley –"

"It doesn't matter _who_!" he burst. "They'll get caught, and I know it."

Meg's anxiety was back just like that; they finally had a real dead person, ready for Herbert's re-animating solution, but his cousin protesting wasn't making this any easier. Her patience thread snapped; as much as she adored Crawford, his paranoia burned out after awhile. "Crawford, we came all this way to quit now. I'm not in the mood for your nonsense, so shut up and let us into your basement," she snarled angrily, making his jaw drop. Katherine stifled a giggle herself, Herbert smiled to one corner as always. Crawford's face was crestfallen, and she knew she hurt his feelings. "I'm sorry," she apologized quickly, "but please support us for both our sakes." She hated begging anytime, but his support was necessary as much as her sister's was.

He sighed and nodded in resignation. "Alright, but please say I was right if it doesn't work."

Herbert scoffed as soon as they were alone in the basement. "He's too cautious for his own good," he said, unzipping the bag to show the peaceful wizened face and wisping white hair. "He's a scientist as I am; he ought to know it comes to this."

Staring at the pale face in amazement, Meg realized how...frightening this truly was. The thing with Rufus had been, but now was even more so. It was because now that a human body was in their possession – and without permission of the hospital or any medical authority's knowledge – the fear of getting caught was setting into her system, so how would they give the story without exciting suspicion once they actually brought it to the hospital? A call to the retirement home was likely, but Herbert was masterful at concocting his own side. Keeping this a secret was wrong on so many levels, but it was also so...

"Megan?" His voice brought her eyes to his face; he was glaring at her, expecting her to pay attention. "Are you ready?" He handed her the recorder; she stared at it briefly before accepting it slowly from his impatient hand. "You start the entry. The date is September nineteenth at seven twenty-two PM."

She pushed the button. "September nineteenth, seven twenty-two PM," she repeated, still feeling empty and shaking. "Subject once named Eva Wilson, seventy-six years old. Dead from stroke." She looked up when Herbert prepped the syringe. "How much is that?"

"Twenty-five CCs," he answered, reaching over to life the head up and inserted the needle to the back. Meg nodded, repeating the dosage into the recorder. The time elapsed was nothing short of a few seconds – the duration where Meg recited in her mind how the cerebral cortex might as well be dead while the brain stem itself was still able to function for the six to twelve minutes it took – before the horrible shrieks of agony tore at her eardrums and the body flailed up on the table, writhing and squirming in a manner she had not expected, and Meg could have sworn she screamed with the dead woman, who – to her own horror and disgust – began to claw at her own throat in oblivion to the other two around her until Herbert intervened.

"Please, don't do that!" he shouted over her inhuman cries. "Please, look at me!" His pleas were in vain because the woman didn't seem to be aware of anything other than her own pain and finished tearing her own throat open with her own fingernails before blood spurted out in random directions, staining her flannel gown and almost hitting Meg and Herbert before she choked a couple times and fell back on the table, dead for a second time. Glaring at the corpse for a few moments, Herbert finally found it in him to angrily throw down the empty syringe so it broke into pieces of glass and metal.

"DAMN IT!" he shouted. "The dosage was still too large!"

~o~

His laser drill had been approved upon, and Carl Hill couldn't be anymore happier. Even more when he and Alan were on their way home. He couldn't wait to see Meg and give her the gift he'd gotten her while in Boston. He pulled it out of his coat pocket while in the taxi cab with Alan on the way to the house to examine it one more time. The bracelet was exquisite Italian gold, capturing the magic of a night sky with fiery European diamonds. He knew it was her the moment he laid his eyes on it.

And Alan was still praising it. "She's going to love that, Carl."

"I can't imagine her not," he agreed, putting it away. Oh, he certainly looked forward to her eyes sparkling when he put it on her wrist. Or maybe she would just pretend to for his sake. Lately since she'd matured, she was shying away from him, and he wouldn't want to force her into anything, but something inside him was aching to do it because he wanted her so much. He just couldn't let her get away from him.

The car finally pulled up in front of the house, just as Alan left it. They brought their luggage up to the front door in time for it to be opened, and none other than Megan stood there in an soft, innocent ivory sweater dress...and West was with her. Carl seethed inwardly but smiled at her and forced one for West. The last thing he needed was to be insulted on his first day back with his beloved.

But the moment he greeted her with a kiss on the cheek – correction, tried to – she barely received it and stepped back to be beside West. For the first time, Carl Hill saw that, even though her father didn't seem to notice the whole time they helped with unpacking but he was leaving for his own residence very soon, she preferred to stand beside that little runt. What had they been up to while he and Alan were away?

~o~

Herbert was more than angry about the failure from Thursday night. The body hadn't even been dead _that_ long, but maybe it was still because of the dosage. He'd made it too large again, but maybe this was necessary because science, after all, _was_ about arriving at the wrong answers before you found the right ones. Meg, however, seemed to have been a little shaken by the time they were finished disposing the body when they took it to the local funeral home instead of the hospital, telling the cremator that the woman had no family to take her.

Halsey and Hill were back now, and he wasn't happy to see either of them. Well, partially now he started to see Halsey as the key; if Herbert and his daughter could persuade him to help them, recognize what they were trying to do, as well as perhaps see a demonstration of re-animation, but Herbert doubted he would believe in bringing a dead cat or dog back to life. He would call it animatronic pretense. And Hill, oh he knew exactly what the plagiarist would try to do if he found out.

Hill had gone home after giving his fiancée a blazing bracelet that she now wore on her right wrist; he thought that thing too bedazzling for the woman herself. They were now in his room since he finally allowed her in after the fiasco with Rufus, and going through his notes – she'd also brought in her own books for study hour – with her. "She was fresh," he told her, "but the dosage was too large. I started out with Dr. Gruber at the same dose, but that didn't work, and I increased it then to thirty-five, the theory then that it would work if it was increased. But it was one of the most foolish of mistakes I've ever made. I refuse to do it here." He shook his head and looked back down on the latest entry. "Next time, I shall begin with fifteen, increase it in small amounts only if necessary." That is if the subject didn't mutilate itself like this one and Gruber.

Meg looked up from her book with wide eyes. "But how will there be a next time? I'd have to get permission first. You know who," she said in a low voice. Herbert nodded, clenching his jaw. "But I don't think Daddy will be happy that equipment was borrowed from the school without permission, and charges would be pressed if he learns that."

Herbert smiled slightly; Crawford panicked enough over him as it was, now she was. "Perhaps not, but it's now or never. Risk, remember? All medical research requires it."

"And I know my father," she said. "He'll have you expelled, and what will happen then?"

Herbert smiled. Nothing ever stopped him, not psyche evaluation and imprisonment, not restrictions of any kind, and expulsion wouldn't either. If the third really occured, then it was decided that school wasn't the best option for him since the man who ran where he was now – and any other in Massachusetts, for that matter – may have possessed kindness and leniency but actually cared more about the grants his "eminent" neurology professor brought to the school than the individual spirits who came to seek their own identities. Crush all independence was all it was. He tried to do that to his own daughter who was trapped in a loveless engagement to a man old enough to be her father. Herbert wanted nothing more than to have Meg come with him then. If her own father disowned her, then she had her sister as well as Herbert and Crawford who actually gave a damn about her.

"Why are you smiling?" she demanded, on the verge of losing it. Herbert reached over and brushed his fingers over her bared wrist; she stiffened slightly in response, and he heard the slightest of breath hitched. That simple sound was enough to make his heart flutter. How was it that the smaller, simplest things made such a big difference in anything in the world? No woman had ever been the subject of any fantasy as she; he didn't sleep at night much like he used to, but there were those times she would invade his thoughts – everything from her pale liquid gold hair bobbing above her shoulders, crystal blue eyes and soft pink lips, ivory canvas of skin and angelic voice – and he would get that stirring in his body again. There were so many words but all agreeing on this one feeling to describe it. He would mostly call it chemistry, the scientific way to call a "special connection". He would agree on that because he and Meg DID have a special tie. Neither of them said it aloud that they didn't like each other, but did they? The banter over Rufus was nothing short of a disagreement any person could have. He brought her into his world as she'd allowed him into hers; he would never back out as he would never allow her to.

"Because we're not alone in this," he said finally. "It's you and I, and our families which do not include your father and Hill. They're old imbeciles, one who rests on the old times and another who lacks the abilities I have. We'll make our own ways without them if anything should backfire. I learned how to do that the hard way a long time ago." Looking deep into her eyes, Herbert finally decided maybe it wasn't a bad time now to admit to himself he had something more than a simple attraction for Megan. But it was so terrifying to think she might not. Then the memory of Crawford telling him being too negative can get you into a deep pool of obscurity came to light. He wouldn't dwell too much on the opposite until further examination, but this much he knew already:

Megan Halsey took him serious, respected him, and for that, he cared about her enough to not want her to get hurt in any way.

When had he been leaning in? Or did _she_ lean in? Their faces were inching closer, Herbert's whole face like it was on fire with the intensity of her eyes and her lips almost touching his. He quickly drew back; she was disappointed, and he could read it off of her. He was, too, but this was getting to be too much with more important concerns before them. There was plenty of time for this. "I don't think this is a...good idea," she whispered.

So, she _was_ exhibiting something, too, but it wasn't expanded in meaning. Due to the fact she was engaged to their shared professor. "I agree," Herbert answered, turning his attention back to his opened journal. "We should continue."

~o~

She was still thinking about the almost kiss even today. She couldn't stop thinking period about Herbert at all. No matter how hard she tried, Herbert's delicate, spectacled face and lips kept coming back. It had caused her to feel hot and bothered once more, but this time she welcomed it like it was one of her favorite drinks she would enjoy time and time again as often as she liked.

Meg tried hating him, but it was impossible now, since the discovery of his life's work which was beyond the ordinary doctor who simply wanted to preserve life. She didn't hate him anymore for Rufus, but what he did was wrong in killing an innocent animal. Animals were better than humans – well, most of the time. How come he never owned a pet, now that it was clear he never did? She...respected Herbert more than she did Carl, and he was so wondrous with his breakthrough as horrifying the results were by far. And lately she'd had more dreams of him, that first one no more, but the content was steamier than ever and had her waking and relieving herself. Images of their naked flesh pressed together, endless kisses with tongue involved, two fusing into one...it was so exquisitely desirable but impossible. Something she knew she would never feel for Carl Hill, whose ring to her she found herself looking down at and considering taking it off, knowing how bare her hand would feel for the first time in three years without it.

But if it was so impossible, then why did her drawing to Herbert feel like such a magnetic attraction?

Dressed in a green sweater and her favorite jeans, Meg shifted from foot to foot as she waited that Monday morning outside her father's office, sweat on the rise with each rapid palpitation of her heart. Herbert insisted on telling him on a school day of all days, and she had little time to spare before she was needed in the ER. Katherine squeezed her shoulder gently. "Relax," she said tenderly. "We're here for you, alright? If it doesn't go well, you have us." Her smile warmed her if not all the way, but it gave her the courage to finally open the door and enter Dean Alan Halsey's office.

"Meg." He didn't seem all that happy, and she was worried; maybe this was a bad idea after all, but it was too late to turn back now. "I think we should have a little talk." Her blood ran colder than ever; the only times he ever mentioned that they ought to have a "little talk" was when Carl snitched on her to him. What did he say to Daddy this time? She held her breath, body rigid, and bit her lip. "You think it's...wise, doing what you're doing?"

"What?" She knew _exactly_ what. She and Herbert had gotten closer than before while he and Carl were away, and he'd noticed himself whenever she would excuse herself for whatever reason, most notably being "studying together", like last Friday. Even get away from Carl on Saturday just to spend the day with Herbert in the lab; no experimenting because her father was in the house, but to discuss again and plan.

"Hanging around so much with West, not being able to spend time with me and your fiancée like you used to."

Official confirmation, but she had to march her steps carefully even though it would blow up eventually. "I know, and I'm sorry. But that has to do with the fact that I got something important to discuss with you."

He leaned back slightly. "Well, then, tell me about whatever it is, will you? If this is about the scholarship and the wedding..."

Meg blurted it out; the longer this was kept it, the worse her racing heart got. "Herbert West has effected re-animation in dead tissue."

A slow, dramatic pause made it too much to handle. Her father's face remained unchanged in its blank, shocked expression. The seconds ticked by – tick tock, tick tock, just like that – until finally he spoke, and it was as she expected since she knew him too well. Or maybe not as well as she thought, because he'd lied to her all her life. "Megan...I'm surprised at you. My own daughter."

"No, I've seen the results," she went on. "He actually did it, if only you were there. He first brought a dead animal, a cat – Rufus – back to life."

His voice was lowered, dangerous now and threatening. "You said he got his head stuck in a jar in the garbage," he said. "So, you lied to me."

"It _did_ happen that way," she insisted, "but Herbert brought him back, but it didn't last. There was also a victim of a stroke also succeeded before she didn't want to remain because she had no family or anyone. We wanted to show you how great it was, show you that we conquered death and would have showed her to the world if only you'd seen it." In her mind, it was wait until he saw himself how violent the subjects were, and what then?

Now she saw that this had all been a mistake after all. But Herbert had wanted her to come here. "So, you've done illegal experiments with him while Carl and I were away," Daddy stated, his voice still acidic as ever. He shook his head. "I hadn't expected such nonsense from you, Megan, but I should have guessed it when you took up with Mr. West."

"I know he's unstable..." She wasn't going to give up if this was the last thing she ever did; they came too far now. She would risk everything she had just for herself and for the man responsible. "...but he actually is onto something. This could be the next breakthrough ever, like Carl's laser surgical drill is." Ugh, bad idea for her brain to even think about bringing that into comparison. And her father was getting angrier with each word that left her mouth.

He slammed his palm flat on the desk. "Enough, young lady. I can't believe I ever let that boy into our house, for him to involve you in his insanity."

"He didn't coerce me into it; I _chose_ to do this," Meg defended, her heart shrinking with her spirit. And her bravery. Her father stood from behind his desk and leaned over, raising his voice higher and treating her like she was another one of his students instead of his little princess that she'd always been. And that was the problem which costed her freedom.

"Never did I think my own daughter, one of the star students of this school which I have run for twenty years, would ever come to this. It seems I should do what is necessary for the sake of this school instead of being lenient as I always have been to you. Tomorrow morning, you will submit to me a written apology for this entire affair. These experiments were clearly beyond the scope of your legitimate studies. They've obviously interfered with your ability to do your classwork. And if _any_ equipment from the hospital or from the laboratories of this university were involved in any of this unauthorized activity, criminal charges will be pressed."

She hated him more than she did then, so it was official. This was the last straw. Meg gripped the arms of the chair, wishing she could draw blood from them as a release of tension. Her father had turned into a complete asshole she didn't know if she would ever have the power now. It was all over now; she might be continuing school here, but that didn't guarantee her an independent spot outside the house. Why didn't she say no sooner and transferred to another school? But if she did that, she never would have met Katherine and Crawford. _And Herbert._ "As for Mr. West..." Halsey – Katherine didn't call him Daddy at all, now it was Meg's turn – put picked up his glasses then and his pen; she assumed he was beginning to jot down the recommendations against her and the man she was attracted to and now the lab assistant of. "...he needs submit no apology. You may tell him that he can pack up tonight and leave our house, and that he may continue his research without the impediment of an education. As of now, he is no longer a student of this university." He paused in his writing and looked up at her, mouth in a line of anger.

"If you choose to follow him, I will have no choice but to disown you myself and allow you no chance better than you were given. You may finish for the day, and that will be all."

Meg's rage burst as she stood up and glared him down. "It's not over until _I_ say it's over," she spat out. "Not only while you and Carl were gone, but I met Katherine. The twin sister you kept me from ever knowing all my life."

He stared at her, face slack with shock and defeat. He dropped his pen to the desk. "How did you...?"

"How did I find out?" she finished hotly. "We ran into each other the day I picked my dress up, then at the hospital when she took a patient for observation. She told me everything; we've been seeing each other since then, even while you were gone." She clenched her jaw. "How could you do this to me, keep this from me? You talked about families never lying or keeping secrets, but you did. For your own selfish reasons."

Alan scowled again and began to stand. She was prepared for a blow; she'd been scarred to her psyche for life if she didn't prepare. "Megan Ann, I would drop this if I were you."

"Is that why Marianne killed herself?" Too late, she realized that was crossing a boundary.

"Your mother wanted a child so badly, but she couldn't. I did this for her, but the weight was too much for her. I kept you girls separated for protection reasons." Oh, the lying bastard. She'd been protected all her life, and it harmed her more than it did any good. "She really loved you despite it all."

"She never loved me," Meg hissed, stepping back and moving for the door. Now she wanted nothing more than to get away from here. Herbert was forced out of the house, but if he left, she'd be alone and worse than ever. He was everything to her more now than ever, and at the moment, she needed him. "Love isn't hitting you around and screaming at you, saying you're not their child. And love isn't covering things up." She turned her face halfway; she didn't want to look at him that way. "And love isn't marrying someone else because your father liked him."

Alan's temper burst as largely as hers did. "Carl is a good friend to our family, and he has loved you since you were small, Megan. You're going to marry him, and that is –" He stopped talking when she found it in her to reach and pull off the black pearl and tanzanite ring, setting it down in the chair she'd been. Her hand actually felt the good kind of naked, like getting that way and joining the other person in bed. Her cheeks flushed; that was weird to come up with at a time like this, but it was true. She was really starting to feel different, change so much since Herbert West entered her life.

"Tell Carl the wedding is off. And don't expect me at the house. You're on your own now," she said coldly, glaring him in the eyes, her hand now on the doorknob. "I hate you and I never want to see you again. My family is Katherine and her fiancée...and Herbert."

 **YAHOO Meg grew a set of her own! :D She's a real woman of her own right now, but that means she's on the streets with the man she's fallen for. :( But it's not over yet.**


	14. Bring Me to Life

**There is a video of "Bring Me to Life" by Evanescence on YouTube and none other for the movie Re-Animator itself. :D This was among setting the foundation for the whole story, so it befits what will transpire in this chapter.**

Chapter Thirteen

Bring Me to Life

She opened the door and closed it loudly behind her, relief washing over her only to be replaced with an overboding feeling that wrapped cold around her heart. Did she really mean that she hated him? She did not ever remember telling her father that in her life; it was supposed to satisfy her now that it was a first...but she had doubts.

"How much did you hear?" she asked Katherine and Crawford, both still standing there.

"Everything," Crawford answered, fingering the sleeve of his sweater nervously. "So, it's done. You and Herbert, finished. This means the end of this." His lips quivered. "Now I'm more worried for the both of you than I was then; I _did_ warn you guys..." He stopped and feebly cried out when Katherine gently swatted his arm. "Kathy, what was that for?!"

"To keep quiet," she said with a playful laugh before turning back to her sister. "Meg, it's not the end of the world. What happened to Herbert across the ocean didn't stop him, so don't think this will stop you guys now. This is your opportunity now." She joined them both into her embrace for a "group hug". "See, Meg is free to be with us now. We're finally the family we should be, no more answering to that man who dared called himself your father. None of us leave the other behind in time of need from now on, and we'll do this as a team, make them see this as the miracle it ought to be."

Meg was really happy for her sister's genuine love and support. Yeah, this was love, this was family. Her new one she found when she sacrificed the false one had made her into an utterly different person than she'd been. She had no sympathy for Carl Hill because he was so creepy and so eager to marry her; those looks he gave her were enough for obvious reasons. Her mother had made it clear that her life had been ruined because of her, when it was young Meg who had no fault in it.

And her father...she didn't love him anymore, or did she still? He might have lied to her, had her as a replacement for Marianne, but he was still her father. Or was she having confused feelings? She felt so different now she couldn't tell. The pain was so overwhelming. If he didn't come around once they made a real breakthrough with the research...

"Yes, and Halsey will have to see the light."

All heads turned to see none other than Herbert standing there, either doing his best to hide how he really felt about being expelled or just simply not feeling anything at all. This man who had begun to make her so reckless and daring in her decisions, and making her body experience primitive desires she'd never felt before. But it was also scaring her because he'd just been expelled, and if her father saw him... "Herbert, you've been thrown out of school, and I just made the decision of joining you," she said fearfully, tearing from Katherine's hold. "If Daddy sees you, he'll call the police."

His eyes widened mildly, but other than that, no emotional response. "Oh, yes?" he mused thoughtfully. "No doubt that he's been talking to Hill. He _has_ noticed how much...closer we are. He's so jealous of me he got into Halsey's mind."

Crawford had spoken up because he was so left out. "Might as well be. So, what are you guys going to do now?" he asked anxiously, his gaze darting back and forth between his cousin and Meg.

Herbert smirked. "Prove it to him, of course. Hasn't that what we've been talking about? Once we do, we can save _everyone's_ life. But for now, all we need is a lab animal..." He stopped there to reconsider before shaking his head. "No, we can't use an animal. He'll claim it's some artificial stimulus response. So, there is _one_ kind of proof that he'll accept." He locked his green gaze with Meg's. "That he'll _have_ to accept."

There was no doubt what he was referring to, and they'd talked about it not so many days ago. Meg almost wholly agreed before – "Oh, Herbert, no, we can't do that –" Mace was always there, and if he wasn't and the doors were locked so the possibility was none, or maybe if the doors WERE unlocked and Dr. Riley or anyone else was there –

Herbert laughed softly and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Oh, Meg, yes, we _can_."

~o~

Herbert stayed outside the locker room with Crawford with a gurney taken from the hospital ward, taking off his shoes and socks, his little black bag beside him and filled with what he'd taken from the house; it was Crawford who snuck it out while making sure nobody saw them. It was risky enough that if Dean Halsey hadn't contacted anyone to let them know of his expulsion – and possibly Meg's, his own daughter who finally found it in her to rebel and call off her engagement, but that also costed her the bright future she had – but he wasn't afraid of the security to expect it. Nothing scared him other than his life's work taken from him...as well as Meg, who finally came out of the women's locker room with Katherine, wearing her scrubs he first saw her in the day he came to Miskatonic and insulted her fiancée in front of her and her father.

Her scrubs hid her body's curves, but she was so precious and devoted as he was. But she was so frightened that she was fighting to keep the worry from her face. "Meg, we'll be fine," he assured her, sitting on top of the gurney and pulling the teal sheet over himself, baring his feet on the other end. The only way to get them both into the morgue was him posing as a new addition to the "territory of corpses", as he took to calling it himself, and her part was bringing him in. That is if nobody else was there at the present. But it was nearly half past ten at night, so why would there be? If Hill wasn't there already...

~o~

Herbert was not at school today, staying at the house today despite when her father made it clear he wanted him out tonight before he'd called back his words that it was impossible to pack and finish in a single day. Meg felt terrible leaving him there by himself without her, but she didn't want to see or speak to her father. She wanted nothing to do with him today; he tried calling for her, but she refused to pick up the phone. So, she spent much of her day with Crawford and Katherine, also wanting nothing to do with Carl Hill and avoided him, too.

The sooner she removed her engagement ring, she actually felt an indescribable sensation of exposure to a new opened road of the unknown. How long now had she wanted to do that? Her scholarship was likely killed thanks to her rebellion, her loan repealed and void, and she wasn't a student here anymore like the man who lay on the gurney she'd pushed towards the elevator and waited now to get to the morgue downstairs. She had no idea where she would go now that her own father disowned her and their houseguest, whose feet stuck out from beneath the sheet. Meg blushed when she thought how _cute_ Herbert's feet looked, no words needed. She was tempted to reach out and tickle them...

The elevator dinged then, telling her they'd arrived at their destination, and the doors swished open to show the hallway of the Miskatonic morgue...and Mace at the end, outside the doors on guard as always, and playing solitaire, looking up when he saw her coming with the gurney holding the covered "cadaver". "They just keep on comin', huh?"

"Oh, yeah," she answered, watching as he went to the doors and unlocked them for her, before walking over to her; she mentally went into a frenzy attack when he began to lift the head of the sheet and expose _Herbert's_ face as well as get them into an awful lot more trouble. "You ain't got my lunch under there, have you?" Mace asked; he barely got the sheet any higher when Meg stopped him while trying her best not to make it look suspicious, and put on her best grin at the joke she cracked which fit what she hoped would make him back off.

"Yeah, one meatball run over by a semi."

"Ew!" he said, turning his face away. "I lost my appetite." He found it in him then to take the covered body one last look before moving to her face. "Are you gonna be around for awhile? I might go fetch me some, uh, coffee." Perfect! This gave her and Herbert the privacy they needed, but that also meant someone else was free to come in while he was away...

"Take your time," she forced out, glad she was still composed but for how long?

From the corner of her eye as she steered the gurney inside, Mace walked away and vanish behind the corner. He was gone, but they had to hurry. The autopsy room was dark as expected; pausing the gurney and abandoning it, she moved to close the doors after seeing that nobody else was coming just as Herbert flung off the sheet and hurried to get his shoes back on. "Meatball?"

Meg rolled her eyes. "Just put your shoes on," she said, turning the lights on and returning to the table for her flashlight. Looking over at the morgue, she tried not to think of her father finding out where they were and all hell breaking loose. Herbert snorted as though reading her mind.

"Oh, if they do catch us," he said sarcastically, "what WILL they do? Embalm us?" He had finished tying his shoelaces by then. "Let's go," he announced, jumping off with the bag in hand, following her to the door which housed more than enough sorts of corpses in various stages of rot, dismemberment, illness, et cetera. The smell didn't bother Meg now as much as the fear of discovery. "Let's try over here," Herbert said, pointing to their right, the first being the second away from the door. He read the tag aloud. "Burned victim."

"Ugh," she said in spite of herself. Now she doubted they would find a "perfect" body in here. Herbert had made it clear that the corpse had to be devoid of ailments of any kind as well as burns, limb ruin, and so forth...but what about the heart? Death doesn't come free from casualty. The next one was her "meatball", which she laughed at in irony. Oh, yeah, and free from shots to any part of the body, such as the head, as the next one depicted.

"Malpractice," he said of the latest, and she was more than ready to pack up and get out of here now. None of these bodies fit what they were looking for. But before she could open the door to leave, he stopped her. Turning around, she saw him shine his mini flashlight on the tag of the true newest arrival, covered in a gray sheet. "Yes, I think you," he said, mostly to the card still in his hand.

So all hope was not lost, but that depended on how long this guy had been dead, and what he'd died from. "How long?" Meg asked, joining his side briefly before moving to the head and pulling the sheet down. The guy was young, if not much older than herself, dark-haired and strong in both face and body, upon drawing it down to show a muscled chest as well as tattooed arms.

"He arrived early this evening," Herbert answered. "John Doe, apparently just dropped dead. No record of any damage." He clicked off his light and smiled. "He's almost perfect. Could be heart damage at most. Since a dead body doesn't just fall from the tree."

Meg stared at him in shock, then down at the dead man's face again, which looked more asleep than dead in contrast to the others around him. If his heart was damaged... "Well, then, we should find another one," she said, but doubted her own words after the painstaking search before this one.

Herbert shook his head furiously. "No time for that. All we need tonight is a specific conscious reaction. He's been dead for hours, and any evidence of re-animated consciousness will justify proceeding. We won't stop until we get this right, I promise you that." He had unzipped the bag and removed the recorder, handing it to her. "You know what to do, I trust." Meg snorted and nodded, turning the device on and speaking into it as he pulled out the vial and syringe. The green fluid glared threateningly in the dark, like a sinister omen. Oh, how true it was.

"September twenty-third. Subject John Doe, age about early twenties. No deformities of any sort, appears to be in excellent physical condition. Cause of death believed to be..." She paused, struggling over the condition; the guy had simply been found dead, no identification, no one to claim his body. He'd been brought here just like that, his death unexpected and unfortunate, but he seemed so young and fit and healthy, how could he have collapsed from...? "Heart, uh...failure," she managed, her throat clogging now from the fact they were doing this in the dark and trespassing..."black and forbidden realms of the unknown", no thanks to _Frankenstein_.

"Time's ten-thirty-three PM," Herbert told her, checking his watch. She repeated the time into the recorder, wanting nothing more than to pass out here on the floor. "Fifteen CCs administered."

Meg repeated the dosage, wondering if that would be the one, remembering the one from Thursday as well as his telling of Dr. Gruber, worrying this one would do the same, or worse:

Go into a murderous frenzy like Rufus.

~o~

"She's my sister,and I love her!" Katherine said angrily as she followed the man she refused to call her father up to the desk counter where Dr. Joan Harrod was. She and Crawford had tried to talk the man into accepting what was happening only for him to explode and decide to take matters into his own hands to get his daughter and Herbert out of the school at once. He rounded on her, stopping halfway in his steps, glaring at her murderously.

"Keep your voice down," he warned. "The last thing I need is a former student of mine telling everyone she's actually my daughter and ruining me."

"Oh, I believe you already are," she spat, struggling to get herself out of Crawford's hold on her arms. "You think you haven't sunken any lower than you already are. Meg is right, and you know it. They see more than you do, willing to not follow you and Hill's shadows like frightened little animals." She jerked away from Crawford at last and began to follow him again. "They're more human and honest than you ever will be!"

Halsey stopped again and faced her. "I've seen this happen to students before," he stated. "Good ones, too. But never did I think this would happen to my own child." He shook his head and turned to Harrod then. "Where is Dr. Riley? I've called him and specifically told him to expel Megan from this school this instant."

She stared at him, puzzled and shocked at the same time. "Sir, Dr. Riley's been at surgery for the last four hours. I haven't seen him."

"And where's she then?" Halsey demanded.

"The morgue, I think. That's the best I can think of."

Halsey groaned and rubbed his eyes. "Page the morgue then. She and West are in so much trouble I want to deal with them both myself." Katherine moaned in despair and put her face in her hands; her fiancée's hands on her again made her want to explode and beat Halsey to a bloody pulp right now. How could she have been so stupid then? They were in seriously hot waters now.

~o~

"Time elapsed?" Herbert was beginning to lose his patience; a sign should have been seen by now, and normally it was no more than a few seconds.

Meg looked down at his watched since she didn't own one of her own. "Fifteen seconds," she answered.

He looked at it out of habit when he didn't need to; what had gone wrong? Was it the formula, the fact a human subject was more complex than an animal, or something else entirely? "Something should have happened by now," he said irritably before picking up the vial again as well as the needle, the need to increase necessary just to be certain. He ignored the sound of the ringing phone outside unlike Meg who panicked again; she really needed to calm down as he was. He made it loud and clear, and would do so again: he would NOT leave until the process was complete. "Obviously, the human dosage factor is unknown. Increasing the dosage by five, making it twenty CCs of re-agent."

"Damn it, Herbert, let's go!" Meg cried, working on his nerves.

"No!" he countered back, finishing the injection before withdrawing the needle and searching the body for any twitching or opening of the eyes. _Anything_. But _no_. "DAMN!" he spat, angrily swatting the corpse's shoulder, wanting to do more than just that only to release his frustration.

"Herbert..." Meg's voice didn't make him feel any better, and she was too frightened to even try to get through this. "...we failed. Let's get out of here now; someone – like my father – could be coming at any minute!"

"HE failed!" Herbert shouted angrily. "Not I."

 _"Miss Halsey...Miss Megan Halsey, please report to the Security Desk Level L."_ The announcer didn't say _his_ name, Herbert West, but he knew he was included. He knew time to go was now; next time would be difficult to obtain another body, as it would be to get more of the needed ingredients for the formula after today. He began to put the tools away at Meg's insistence. He hoped she would just shut up so he wouldn't lose control and strike her harder than he did the corpse...

...which caught them both off-guard and nearly onto the filthy, cold floor of the morgue.

The cries which burst were horrible to his own ears, no denying that, but the pride and excitement in his blood lit up like gasoline on fire that the serum worked! The thing actually got off the table, didn't self-mutilate like Gruber and the old woman, but Herbert could see the blood dripping down its chin as its dead life's blood reacted negatively to the life-giving solution. Herbert backed away with Meg as they both watched it pick up a table and throw it down as it did the most unnatural of dances while trying to get used to being alive again. If it did anymore damage to anything else – as well as to itself if it rammed against the wall – they were all to blame. "Grab him!" Herbert yelled, running to the left and Meg to the right; the monster was actually stronger than them and hauled them off, into the wall. "STOP!" Herbert shouted as high as his lungs would allow him to. To his surprise, the creature ceased its gel-like movements, flopping around like a rag doll, and turned around slowly to the beam of Meg's flashlight in its face, the blood illuminated to a vivid ruby red enough to match the horrible lipstick his mother still wore. "He listened to me!" he exclaimed to Meg, making the mistake then in not paying attention to their subject which rushed him and grabbed him by his shirt, throwing him off to his right and hitting the wall corner. He stayed where he was while the monster grabbed Meg and threw her in the other direction; she knocked over another bagged body table, the loud banging not drowning out the painful screams of the walking corpse they brought back.

"MEGAN!"

 _Halsey!_

The dean was here! But Herbert couldn't find it in him to stand sooner when his subject tried to advance on him again; looking past its shoulder, Herbert saw that Meg had picked herself up and tried to unlock the door again only to fail. "Megan Ann Halsey, you better open up this door!" her father roared on the other side.

"HELP!" she screamed out, over the inhuman howls of the corpse which clumsily stumbled over to her. Herbert had shrunk back against the wall but managed to stand up slowly, his body numb. "Daddy, get help!" Meg wailed, sinking to the floor, trapped even though she could find a way to dive away from the thing over her. Her father yelled back through the steel door again.

"Is West in there with you? You're in a lot of trouble, the both of you!"

His threat and voice seemed to enrage the corpse now, and its attention was no longer on her or Herbert; she got away in time for the beast to charge faster than a stampede, its powerful strength breaking down the door; Herbert wouldn't be surprised that it crushed Halsey in the process. The father of the woman who was now at his side, who had just kicked them both out of school earlier that day. Meg helped him stand, draping his arm over her shoulder and her arm around his waist. Her body against his felt so comforting that he was able to walk better and out of that room behind him. He had been looking down at the floor the whole, but then Meg's cry of "NOOOO!" caused him to look up in time to see her father, now covered in gore, grabbed from behind by the corpse and thrown into the air in all its might, smashing into it in the process. A slight crunching sound was heard. "DADDY!" Meg screamed, letting him go and running over.

Their subject was now slamming the dean's body forcefully, repeatedly against the wall a number of times so blood smeared behind him on the white wall. Herbert finally gave up, deciding this thing wasn't going to quit, and decided there was ony one thing left to do, and it rested in the glass cabinet where the other medical equipment was. He couldn't unlock the doors himself, so he picked up a metal saw which wasn't the one he wanted, and smashed the glass so he finally had access to the weapon on choice.

"STOP! For God's sake, _STOP!"_ Meg wailed, helpless that she could not help her father. Why did she get so soft now over the man who kicked her out of her life along with him? Herbert shook his head and announced his part, turning the buzzing tool on and crossed the room in four quick strides so he was behind this success – and failure – and dragging it away from the dead dean, plunging the blade into the back with all his might. Keeping a tight hold around the monster's neck, its head shaking side to side in protest, he sliced his way through flesh and bone – and any important organs, such as the heart – and out through the chest, some meats jutting out and dropping to the charcoal-colored floor. Meg had watched the whole time, and he knew she was getting sick, looking like she was going to pass out simply from the sight as well as all the blood spilled, both from her father and his murderer. Once he was sure the thing was dead a second and final time, Herbert turned off the saw and yanked off his hand; some meat was on his hand, and he disgustedly threw his hand down to get it off.

Halsey still didn't move, but what was Herbert really expecting? He was dead. "Meg, get the recorder!" he said, the excitement returning; now they had a new one, a much fresher one, so perhaps since he hadn't been dead any longer than the one now on the ground between them and Meg – who had sunk on her rear before the operating table – he could be brought back to life with more reason, realize how wrong he'd been and welcome them back in.

Meg still didn't move, only shook her head no. "Did you see him?" Herbert said, pointing to the other one. "He _listened_ to me! He made a conscious act!" He'd stopped at the sound of Herbert's command; that was the perfect start! But Meg's reaction was the exact polar opposite of his own. She shook her head again.

"He heard you as an _animal_ would!" she said angrily. She leaned her head back and moaned. "Oh, you can't be serious. After what he tried to do to us?"

Herbert was glad she said that, because this was not how he wanted the dead to come back; he wanted a normal thinking human being, but he should also always expect some bubbles to burst and make a bigger mess. "Hell, you may be right. He probably had been dead too long. It wasn't fresh enough. We probably only revived the senses and instincts, so come on and help me with this!" He started to move her father in their direction, ready to get him on the operating table instead of remaining here on the floor.

Meg gave the corpse of her father a numb look. "Is he...dead?"

Herbert sighed loudly. All these questions were nothing but a waste of time. "Of course, now would you just give me a hand here? He interrupted an important experiment in progress, but granted it _was_ an accident. But this is the _freshest_ body we can come across instead of killing one ourselves, and every moment we spend talking about it costs us results, now will you give me a hand?!" She still didn't move, just continued to stare at him; her shock was slowly ebbing away into anger once more. She didn't believe him. He tried one more time. "Meg, we can bring him back to life."

He was more than happy that she finally complied. Together, they hauled Halsey's body onto the table, ready to tie him down. "Get the recorder and find my serum," he told her as he grabbed the unbreakable plastic used to keep the body restrained; unbreakable plastic being one of man's few durable inventions. Meg returned, though unlike before, her steps were slow and like a ghost, her face grim and unfeeling. She was in shock. So had he when he lost Gruber, but she would get over it eventually. His mentor's death didn't stop him, so neither would her father's death.

"Twelve CCs being administered," he spoke into the recorder she held up to him. "The dosage lessened in accordance to the freshness of the subject." He followed through while she slumped to the side of the table again. He paid her no mind then, but as long as she kept up with the timing. "Five seconds." She repeated the time into the recorder, though softer and duller. Herbert gritted his teeth as more passed. "Come on...I'll show you..." He looked down at his watch again. "Fifteen seconds..."

And then the eyes snapped open, the body spasming slightly. Herbert almost jumped again. "S-seventeen seconds!" he cried happily. "Re-animation at seventeen seconds; the eyes opened!" It worked; it finally worked! He couldn't wait to hear the man's first words of life again, for the mouth was struggling to get them out, and more gooey blood poured out from the side and onto the steel table surface. "Doctor! Dr. Halsey! You once did me a favor by letting me into your medical school," Herbert spoke into his ear. "Doctor...welcome back to life..."

 **The number thirteen is a bad luck number, and this is the thirteenth chapter - as well as what just happened. Do the math. :D**


	15. Lithium

Chapter Fourteen

Lithium

Meg felt like she was drowning in shock and sorrow as she heard the sound of her father's choking noises – he'd been dead and brought back, Herbert succeeding this time, but what was the catch? – and Herbert excitedly welcoming him back into the world again. He showed no shred of emotion other than horror as she did, short-lived as it was and not as enormous, rush to get the process done for the sake of the tissues' condition, and excitement when the next dead man – her father – was brought back to life. She thought this was all a dream she wanted to wake up from even though she knew that it wasn't, wanted to collapse and die, let the darkness take her away to somewhere else besides here.

Her father was dead, killed by their newest trophy, because it wasn't happy at being brought back and therefore tried taking it out on her and Herbert, its creator, but then it turned its savage attention to her father who entered the morgue without thinking twice because he wanted to force her and her partner out of his school – the same school they tried to make a difference in the world – before getting two of his fingers bitten off and the back of his skull smashed into the wall, possibly his neck broken. He was dead because it was _her_ fault.

The last thing she said to him was she hated him and never wanted to see him again. She left him alone at the house that day. She abandoned him because he'd tried covering up her other half and parentage, didn't recognize Herbert's genius and chose to believe the fabrications of his oldest friend and colleague who stole the theories of another world-famous scientist who died of a broken heart. Irony, because his poor fragile heart didn't take well his years of hard work ripped from him. But that was beside the point. Her father didn't stop to view _anything_ closely and reasoningly, covered a lot up to protect himself. His own daughter's happiness didn't really matter to him; she'd been nothing but a biological tool, to be married to his prominent brain physician and taking care of him...and eventually a mother before his time ran out. She hated him so much now for everything...but now he'd been killed by a mad zombie she and the man with the green serum brought back. She was supposed to be a doctor, save lives, _prevent death,_ but it cost her father his life.

"Herbert? Meg?"

She jerked up at the sound of her sister's voice. "Katherine –?" she started, only to feel a blow to the back of her head which sent her onto the ground. Her re-animated father had broken free from the "unbreakable" plastic and stunned her. Then there was also the sound of Herbert choking; Halsey had him by the throat in a raging effort to choke the life out of him for what he did to him – "Daddy!" Meg screamed, getting up and moving behind him to try and wrestle him off Herbert, but he grabbed her by her hair and held her down as he clasped the other harder around Herbert's slender throat...

"NO! Let them go!" At the sound of the door opening as well as his other, abandoned daughter's voice, Halsey let both Meg and Herbert go as soon as he saw both Katherine and Crawford standing there. He reacted quickly, panicking and getting off the table to run into a corner, crouching into it in shame and wanting to shrink away.

Crawford rushed her way and helped her stand up. "What happened here?" he asked, though he looked at the blood-covered dean in the corner, whom Herbert was now leaning over and also covered in blood – the blood of the failure he killed, which was still laying on the floor in its own pool of red on dark gray. "God, Meg did...?" Meg opened her mouth to answer him before she heard the familiar sound of Mace returning.

"Meg, are you all right?" he asked, looking at her in between her sister and future brother-in-law; neither of them answered right away, and his attention shifted to Herbert just leaving her father. "Mr. West, who's that?" he asked suspiciously.

Herbert almost stumbled over his words, but thankfully he picked himself up faster than she ever would. "Uh, that is Dean Halsey, sir." He moved back over to Meg. "You see, Dr. McMichaels, Dr. Tillinghast and I came down here to visit Miss Halsey here –" His hand briefly touched her arm as he partially drew her close to him; her body jolted slightly at warm skin with remnants of sticky blood drying. "– who was here working, and Halsey entered, started ranting at us. Rather irrational."

The guard stared disbelievingly for a second before he looked past them, past the dean in the corner. "Who's that over there?" He was definitely threatening to explode on the fact that Dean Halsey lost his sanity for unknown reasons – oh, he would never know, hopefully, as much as it was beginning to tear her away inside – now that he was seeing "proof" of it.

Herbert abandoned her and stood over the gory mess. "Just a...corpse, sir," he said, gesturing to the bone saw still driven through its back. "You see, Halsey came in here, grabbed that – thing, and well...he went crazy." Daddy made noises that sounded like they were a combination of grunts and howls of protest but didn't have it in him to speak like he used to; he was in so much pain and helpless to fight against it.

"Dean Halsey, I'm calling the police," Mace announced, marching over to the phone then.

Meg felt like she was dying now and becoming a ghost. Ignoring the others around her, she took a few steps and fell at last, starting on the knees before lowering her whole body to the ground. What happened...what they did...so wrong... _so wrong_...

Arms wrapped around her, draped a clean teal sheet over her, but it didn't make her feel anymore safe and secure, not even Herbert's soft, reassuring voice. "It's shock; don't worry." She forced herself to look up into his face, seeing him hold up the recorder briefly before putting it away into his breast pocket. Everything – the whole, true story of what actually happened – was there, and he would make sure that they would never find it when the police talk to them. Katherine was over their father despite her clear loathing of him, Crawford behind her, unable to look at them both, but Meg was too oblivious and wrapped in her own grief to acknowledge anything else, as well as Mace on the phone and telling the police department that the dean of the medical school had lost his mind and mutilated a corpse, attacked his daughter and one of his own students in the morgue. Herbert's arms around her and his body against hers was all she needed right now, but the interrogation coming up was what she feared more now than getting caught by her father. What were they going to tell the police now?

~o~

Meg had managed to go along with his story that her father went mad and tried to kill both him and her, did way with a cadaver she was working on, and then was stopped when Crawford and Katherine entered and interfered. Thankfully, the police accepted everything, and now the monstrous dean was locked away for now...in Dr. Carl Hill's office of all places, obviously. Which made Herbert worry when he tried not to.

Since Hill had Halsey in his custody, he could very much be given permission to explore his brain system and everything, very much find out that the dean was very much dead and alive at the same time. He and Meg would be in seriously deep now; he wouldn't let anyone else but himself know that he was afraid now. Once Hill found out, he would come to Herbert who knew the truth, same went for Meg, his little bride who had found the courage to break up the wedding. Now that her father was gone and he had no more control over her life.

He sat in the back with Meg still holding onto him for support, still wrapped in a blanket and still in her hospital scrubs, but she hadn't uttered a word since they left the school when the cops questioned them. The pressure of interrogation had finally gotten to her, but was that all? Or was it the fact that her father was now a crazy walking corpse in a straightjacket in Hill's office, ready to be further examined and determined to be in the Sefton ward for a really long time? She was shaking visibly against him, clutching onto him like she didn't want to lose him, didn't want to let go. Herbert actually felt sympathy for her even though she shouldn't feel it for the man who kicked them both out of school; now they were free to remain if they wished. Dr. Harrod had told the police that Halsey had demanded to get Meg and him out of the school immediately, detailing he was angry but not insane, yet that wasn't enough to acquit him of the mess found. Which allowed them both to remain, and that meant he was free to continue his work and Meg to put her life back where it was.

He snorted; if she reached the top the way she was now, she would fare no better because there was still Hill. Now that Halsey was out of the picture – kinda of, anyways – Hill would be free from the leash. Which was why they had to act fast and make plans tonight and into tomorrow; he had persuaded Dr. Harrod and Riley to keep Meg and himself away for tomorrow because of tonight's events. It was nearing midnight; it was late, but he didn't want to sleep tonight, so he needed his drug soon after he got Meg settled in.

Crawford had said nothing to them the whole drive back; he wasn't speaking to Herbert at all. He still didn't understand why his cousin whom he'd always been close to since they were children didn't understand or support him, didn't understand why sacrifices had to be made in the name of science. He ought to know that himself, but still, he was too shaken by the past to continue wearing his big boy pants. Katherine paused the van in front of the Halsey home and turned around to look at them. "Make sure she eats something, please," she begged. "Last thing I need is her starving it off from tonight."

Herbert nodded; he'd already planned on doing that before they got to work, though he doubted that she would be able to given her current state. But the right thing had to be done; she would come around eventually. He deposited her on the armchair in the sitting room before vanishing into the kitchen and hurriedly making her their shared favorite sandwich and dropping it in front of her. "Here, eat that," he ordered. "We have work to do."

Meg still said nothing. She'd been staring at the floor, occasionally half-closing her eyes or simply seeing nothing. "Now, first of all," Herbert continued, knowing she was still listening even in her near-catatonic condition, "there are a few decisions that we have to make, and fortunately for us, the police accepted the explanation that your father went mad." He chuckled and put his glasses back on after removing them as his habit of thinking aloud. "I mean, what else would they have believed? The truth? That he _died_ and _came back_?" He leaned in closer to her blank face, her eyes now finally focused on him. "We did it, Meg!" he told her excitedly. "He had conscious thought! He remembered what happened to him, even recognized Katherine, knew who she was, and so forth!"

His head felt that familiar jab of pain at the back of his cerebrum, and he winced, reaching up to rub that spot. "Now, we can stay here in school, if we want," he went on, trying his hardest to ignore it and get this out, "and it's up to us..." Damn it, the pain was growing; he needed the re-agent now and soon. "...when we show the world..." God damn it, he lost it and left his words hanging and stalked out of the living area for the stairs.

~o~

He had stopped speaking, grabbing the back of his head and running out of the room; she could hear his bedroom door slamming from all the way downstairs. Meg finally pulled herself together after hearing that as well as thinking back to everything he'd told her. The police wouldn't be looking at them again, but lying to them made her really ill inside, but at the same time, Herbert was right that they were trying to do the right thing. Her father had tried interfering, and look where it got him. A padded cell in Dr. Hill's office at the hospital.

She'd felt like she was locked up inside herself when he was around, everything he kept from her and did for her all her life – or _to_ her – and her betrothal to Carl; she doubted he would take the news well, but it scared her because she had no idea how he would truly respond.

But it was so late and a little after midnight by now; how could he think about working at a time like this? Didn't he ever sleep? Slowly standing and feeling her body still numb a little, Meg let the blanket drop – her scrubs were covered in blood and needed to be washed – and left the sitting room for the staircase. She wondered what was wrong with him to make him stop mid-sentence, what he was feeling. And what he was doing in his room now.

Being in the house now that Daddy was gone was so surreal and horrifying. She felt like she was a child again, lost and without a guiding figure to protect her. But there _was_ someone in the house with her who wasn't her father, someone who protected her from that thing that killed her father as she protected him, too. He was better than her being alone, joined her in her fall. Perhaps she could find it in her someday to forgive him. Each step she took towards his room was steady as the beat of a drum with each slow, dramatic pause, before she quickened at the top of the stairs and hurried to his room, not waiting to knock before opening. And when she did...

"Meg." Herbert sat on the edge of his bed with his vial of re-agent and a needle – and his left sleeve _rolled_ up to bare the inside of his elbow. "I n-need help..." he managed, shaking violently and holding up the bottle and syringe to her. She glared at both him and the contents disgustedly and backed away a step.

"God, Herbert, you're not –" Did he actually _mean_ to give himself a dose of his own experiment that was meant only for the purpose of reviving the DEAD? What kind of reckless idiot was he?! And she would _not_ have any part in this!

"No!" he cried out, his arms shaking now. "It's just a weak solution, so I don't have to sleep, just to keep the brain...sharp." His voice shook, too. It was strange to see him so vulnerable as she had been, but she didn't need no diluted solution to keep her strong.

"No!" she said, wanting to turn and leave now, but his pleas kept her feet glued where they were now.

"Yes! I-I _need_ it! PLEASE!"

The Herbert West she'd known all this time would _never_ beg her to help him, never use the word "please" in his vocabulary. Seeing his eyes behind his glasses swell with tears, his skin sweating and dampening his hair, his whole body wracking with need – it all brought an unwanted but aching feeling to below her body. How could this be such a turn on when he looked like such a drug addict, taking something he didn't need? Frustrated, she took the bottle and needle from him. So, this kept him awake at night so he could do his work and late night studies; it must have kept him from eating at times. No wonder he was so thin. "How much?"

"Three CCs," he answered, reaching up to rub his temple briefly with his right hand even though they were both outstretched, impatiently and desperately waiting for the dosage. Finished, Meg glowered at it for a few seconds before handing it to him. He tapped the pulsating vein of his elbow in preparation, making sure it was ready, but when he tried lifting the needle there, his spasms became uncontrollable that Meg thought he would break the needle or lose himself if he didn't get this done.

She sat down beside him and took the needle from his hand. "Give me that." She took his left wrist into her hand; he trembled beneath her touch, like he wanted more, but she assumed it was his "need" making him this way.

"Please," he begged, biting his lower lip as she finally inserted the needle, piercing the tender skin and injecting the needle into his veins. She slowly drew it out when he began to take a few heavy breaths which soon became rapid. His whole body was convulsing now in his sitting position, and without her seeing it coming, he stood with great speed and threw his head backwards, his body rigid and still spasming, the noises escaping his throat imitating an orgasm; the whole sight of him and the throbbing of his jugular vein in his neck made her want him now, in his bed. She felt like crushing the empty needle in her hand at the thought.

He calmed down a few seconds later, taking a few more inhales and then exhales; he was back to being Herbert again. Why on earth did he take this garbage anyway? And why couldn't he sleep at any time? Meg wanted to ask these questions so bad, but he spoke before she could. "Now...we must make our plans." His smile was devious at whatever thoughts and ideas he might be having, but she'd had enough for one night. Setting the needle down on the nightstand, she shook her head.

"I'm too tired. I've had enough of tonight as it is."

"Meg." His hand grabbed her arm again and turned her to face him, his glare bearing down on her. "We've accomplished so much tonight that it can't wait. I won't rest tonight until we figure out how to prevent Hill from following our tails."

Shit, Hill! He would find out that the brain activity was abnormal and perhaps lacking activity that it should. If he pieced it together, they were both finished. But it was midnight, and they were given permission to be out of school tomorrow. Tomorrow was the best for her. "You'll need my help tomorrow. I still say I'm too tired. Not everyone can take some vile green serum to remain awake the whole night."

He snorted. "It's not as bad as you think."

"I say it is," she returned before taking her leave. She wanted nothing more than a hot shower of banana and coconut milk...and might as well relieve this problem she wished she could ask him to do for her, since solo pleasure wasn't always satisfying, as it turned out.

 **Once again, fun to do the infamous deleted scene with drug addict Herbie. XD Those noises he makes, and the fact it does it to Megan's body as much as it sickens her, never fails. Though I recall Jeffrey saying somewhere that he doesn't need the re-agent to be Herbert. Words carried on into a later chapter.**


	16. What You Want

Chapter Fifteen

What You Want

If she said she felt sorry for Dean Alan Halsey, she'd be lying. Katherine wasn't a heartless woman, but he got himself into what he did. Crawford, however, hadn't said a word to her or to his own cousin the whole time. Come to think of it, she wasn't sure if she had it in her to speak to him for the night, either. Ignoring her fiancée altogether, she went straight for the bathroom, ready to shower and go to bed. She was going to wake up to a bad day tomorrow, probably.

Strawberry and guava filling her nostrils, Katherine thought of how the police questioned her and the others, including Dr. Harrod. Meg looked like she was going to pass out, but thankfully she managed to agree that her father simply went crazy. Any other sane thinking person would side with Harrod and Katherine – in her expert psychological opinion – that Halsey's explosion was average anger. He was too insane, in the eyes of the authorities, to be put in one of the police station cells, so Dr. Hill was called to take him into the padded cell he had in his office until further notice of examination. Katherine worried terribly because it meant him finding out about the condition of the dean's brain and anything in his body that was broken; he would turn his eyes on Herbert and Meg for sure.

After she finished, she slipped into her soft blue pajamas and wrapped her long hair in a towel, leaving only to bump into Crawford. She jumped physically along with her heart. "Damn it," she muttered, rubbing her eyes.

"I'm sorry," was all he said. "Are you all right?"

"Not really," she answered. "Afraid for Meg and Herbert."

"Not anymore than I am," he said, turning his face from her. "I warned Herbert."

She cut him off. "Crawford, stop it."

He jerked his head up at her then, his mouth in a thin line not at all different from his cousin's. "Kathy, Halsey is dead because my cousin got him killed in an experiment, and he lied to the police. And he's going on as though he doesn't care."

Katherine hated how he was talking about his cousin this way. They were both scientists; he ought to know science was all about stumbling across the wrong turns before reaching the right ones. "He _does_ care, but in his own way."

"He sees nothing but –"

"Crawford Tillinghast." He looked down at her in shock; the only times she ever used his full name was when she was on the verge of losing her temper, and it was bubbling like that. "This is your family. How dare you speak of him like that, the way his own mother does? After what happened tonight, the last thing I want to do is reject both him and my sister who need us more than ever." She glared at him, fiery blue eyes meeting hazel ones. They rarely had fights unless it was over the littlest of things such as him forgetting to close the fridge or taking out the trash, the usual petty household arguments. Right now Katherine hated how the man she was getting married to in less than a month was distancing himself because the man she never acknowledged as her father was now a crazed thing in a padded cell in Carl Hill's office.

Crawford opened his mouth to say something, but she ignored him and stormed straight for the bedroom, telling him to not wait up.

~o~

Meg went to shower, now that he rechecked the time for her. Herbert mused this as he returned to the kitchen for some water and then down to the basement to write down his notes and record everything that was on the recorder. They'd made progress despite the incidents; Halsey still possessed conscious thought, but he was still nowhere near a normal-thinking human being like he used to be. But still, they were getting somewhere now. Herbert was more excited than ever to continue, but after what happened in the morgue, he wondered how he and Meg would be able to get to a new human subject.

He thought, for now, a change in the formula. The dosage was now twelve CCs thanks to Halsey, but he had to perform a few tests on what was still left of Rufus' dead tissue. He would be disposing the beast very soon – it was a miracle Halsey didn't go into the basement to find him stashed there – because he was too mangled and rotten for a third time, though better to use what was left of his samples than let it go to anymore waste. But this was the last night he would remain here before he was buried by his owner soon. It seemed, as well, that a human body could wait a little longer, but Herbert needed a new animal specimen just to see if anything changed with the improvement of the formula.

After that, he and Meg would hatch a plan for her father in their adversary's office.

~o~

"Megan? Hello, Megan, time to get up."

The voice cooed in her ear, sending pleasing vibrations throughout her nerves, enough to make her eyes snap open, but she wasn't sure if she awoke before the voice spoke to her, or if it had been trying for some times to get her up. When Meg opened her eyes, she flinched at the bright sunlight. For a moment, she panicked because she was afraid of being late for school, and as a result, she jumped out of bed but wound up getting tangled in the covers. She fought against them until she was free, but exposing herself to the "intruder" was a small price to pay.

"Goodness, Megan, at least put some clothes on before bed," Herbert said, looking her over with a slight twitch to one corner of his mouth. He didn't look disgusted or showed any sign he was embarrassed, but she couldn't look him in the eyes, standing quickly but not covering her body until she was seated back where she was sleeping, drawing the covers over her chest and lap.

"Excuse me, Herbert," she returned, finally looking at him and seeing how he was trying not to laugh, "but I didn't feel like sleeping with any clothes on. I was too tired for it. And since when do you start coming into my room without me inviting you?"

"Well, you did the same twice to me, so consider us even."

Meg huffed. "Well!" He said nothing in response, just turned and walked out of the room to leave her to get dressed. After last night, she didn't feel like showering again, and she'd shaved everything the night before, choosing this time to wash up and slip into a blue top with three-quarter sleeves and a calf-length denim skirt. When she came downstairs, there was the smell of coffee. How nice of Herbert to do this for her. But was it nice to come into her room without knocking? Well, he had no idea she'd slept naked, and last night wore the energies out of her, so she couldn't be mad at him forever.

This was really strange and depressing. She'd never been on her own before, so she was really frightened. But there was Herbert, so it wasn't just her. But she'd never taken care of herself before as much as she wanted to. She had to blame a small part of herself because she had been to scared to rise to her father. Yesterday she felt good telling him how much she hated him and calling off the wedding, but now the whole world felt like it was closing in on her and trapping her.

She looked up from the floor when Herbert approached her. He stood next to her but not enough for their bodies to touch again. She wanted to feel him next to her again – she wasn't scared anymore, but she was scared he might not be interested her in that way, given they almost kissed days before. He'd been the one to insist they work first before doing anything else.

Meg's body had been changing so much lately, awakening to a new world she'd never been to before. It was as though she was in one of those stories she'd read as a child; a society girl who was breaking the bonds of her world to be with the man of her longing. The forbidden stuff was always the best kind, as foretold. Looking into his eyes, she could finally see the concern needed. "Are you still...in shock after last night?" he asked carefully.

She nodded. "My father is dead, so what do you think?" She wasn't trying to be rude, but he ought to know. Or because he didn't get along with his parents, based on Katherine, he wouldn't know what it was like to actually lose one?

"I do," Herbert answered. "Which is why we must hurry and get to work on planning our steps now. Hill's bound to find out sooner or later."

The phone rang then, startling them both. However, Herbert remained glued like a statue while Meg hurried over and answered. "Halsey residence," she said, shaking a little.

 _"Meg."_

"Carl." She looked up at Herbert in fright and quickly put the phone on speaker for him to hear; she felt she needed to. "Is this about Daddy?"

He sighed on the other line. _"So far, no luck yet. I haven't had the time to examine him just yet, given my schedule is full. I'm afraid he is worse than ever. I have never seen anything like him in my life, despite handling some cases of insanity, my dear."_ There was a pause. _"Your father isn't the only reason I am calling."_

She tried to play stupid but knew it wouldn't work. "And what is it?"

His sympathy was gone, replaced by a soft chuckle. _"Meg, calling off the engagement as well as the wedding, of course. Your father gave me the ring after he supposedly expelled your friend, Mr. West, whom has been allowed to remain in school, with you as well. But I did not call to give you discomfort about that. I hold no grudge for you and West."_

"And I thought you would," Meg said, reaching behind her and holding onto Herbert's slender, warm hand for comfort. "I didn't have an easier way of saying this, but I don't know if I can do this. You were an uncle to me growing up, but I have to be an independent woman now. You knew I had to grow up and say no to Daddy someday, didn't you?" She had to choose her words very carefully lest she started more trouble.

 _"Yes,"_ Hill responded after a long moment. _"I have. I must say I_ am _a little disappointed, but I won't hold it against you. Though..."_ She stiffened and looked up at Herbert's blank glare on the phone she'd now set down on the counter because her hands were shaking. _"...I really want to continue to be there for you. I know you're alone now, and I want to help you with anymore problems you may have. Start by this Friday with dinner with the family_ – _introduce me to your dear sister, Dr. McMichaels, if you must. Since your father never approved, I'm more interested in the family coming together now."_

"Oh, God." She mouthed the words to Herbert, almost slipping up and letting Carl know he was on speaker and that Herbert was listening. "I take it you knew all this time," she said instead.

 _"Always have,"_ he answered, _"but you knew your father as well as I have. But now he has no more say in keeping the two of you apart now. So, what do you say, Meg, about Friday?"_

She thought of quickly how to end the conversation because she didn't want to think about it today. It was Tuesday, but three days seemed short in comparison to how long it actually took to pass. "I have to call her first and ask her –" she started only for him to cut her off.

 _"No need to. I already phoned her. She agrees, along with her fiancée. Mr. West's cousin, I learned."_ He sounded as though he might like the cousin of the man he hated more than the latter. _"Well, I best be leaving you now, my dear, to get better. Last night was very difficult for you."_

She nodded furiously, wanting nothing more than to end this converastion. "I will. Thank you," she said before reaching over and pressing the power button off. "God damn him," she moaned, leaning into Herbert. His whole body remained stiff as though he had no idea what to do, before his arms slowly came up to wrap around her waist and simply hold her. "Herbert, I don't know about this."

"Me neither," he agreed. "But I have a feeling he's luring you into a false sense of security. A man like him never lets things like this go so easily. Especially a woman like yourself, Megan."

"Me?" Baffled, she looked up and gently pulled from his arms. "What about me?"

"You're a very beautiful woman. I take it you've heard it before but never took it seriously."

~o~

Herbert felt on fire when he admitted to her that he very much admired her beauty. He couldn't hold it back anymore. He saw her cheeks flush pink at his words. "You're right, but why are you telling me?" she asked suspiciously. Herbert lowered his eyes to the ground.

"I was never with a woman in my life, and I never much cared for beauty, nor do I ever know how to truly describe it. But you, somehow...alight me in a way I have never felt before. I never knew anything like it before. It is not only the fact that I consider you a new, valuable friend and partner in the research. And it's not just the fact of your beauty, either."

Her jaw had been slack at his revelation, and she turned away from him and marched for the coffee machine. "I...I don't remember anyone telling me THAT way before," she said after a period of heavy silence. "I heard people call me beautiful before, but mostly it's to target me, and Daddy called me his beautiful princess...and then Carl, as you know," Meg added sheepishly, turning to look at him again.

Herbert seethed as he marched over to her. "I beg the question as to what he really sees in you."

"I've been engaged to him for three years, since I graduated high school," she said softly, taking a small sip of coffee. "But even long before that, I never dated anyone because of my father's old-fashioned strict rules. He told me I was beautiful more than I could count, but I never really felt...comfortable. Since our engagement began, it was like the long-ago form of courtship going back to medieval times, where at the top of society, you're a young woman under the reign of your father who was in charge of your destiny. Which also means that I'm still a..." The pink in her cheeks darkened to an almost coral red. It made Herbert's loins stir again at the implication that she was a virgin, like he still was. He always knew she was long before she told him, simple as that.

"He doesn't deserve you," Herbert blurted out, making her blink.

"Y-Herbert?"

"Meaning you're too good for him," he clarified. "You don't deserve a man like him; it's clear enough he sees a young bride for his bed; limited experience as I have, but it's true. And I don't know what love is, but what you and Hill have isn't it. Halsey would have laughed it off if he heard me."

Meg let loose the first laugh he heard from her in awhile. "My words."

"For all I know, Hill doesn't care about you for who you really are." Herbert had no idea what was taking over him now; it wasn't like he went on a drinking binge for the truth to come out of his lips. "A long engagement and courtship all in the name of convenience and his own secret needs? It's preposterous. He's never made you happy the way you should be, so why would he now that your father is gone?"

She was chewing her lip again. "You're absolutely right. I was tied to unhappiness for far too long, unable to do what I wanted. I never knew what being alive and free was like. Herbert..." Her blues were shining. "...I was afraid of you in the beginning, but I respect you more than I did my father and Carl. I always felt like we were being drawn together by a magnet. You know, unable to escape no matter how hard I tried."

Herbert was speechless now; he had not expected to hear her say that, but he silently agreed with her. "I think we should stop talking about this," he said, his throat feeling rough now, "because I don't know how much longer I'll hold my control."

"Control over what?" she asked. "Control over how we might feel for each other? Herbert, I've found you handsome but mysterious ever since we met. You're nothing like Carl, with enough words said and unsaid to prove it. You don't care about anyone else around us, and you really helped me break free from this cage I've been kept in my whole life." She gestured around them at this house she'd been born. "You introduced me to a newer, darker, more frightening world than I've known, but I haven't forgotten who I really am. I can close my eyes all I want only to open them and see that I'll never go back to the way things were. If you spiral down any further than you have, I'll spiral down with you." She reached down and took his hand into hers; electricity shot through his skin and throughout his nervous and muscular systems, through his blood and everything. She was really infecting him with something incurable in a darkly seductive sense.

He tried to think of a way to break beyond how far they were now, but he couldn't find one, not with her face moving north for his. "Meg, this won't lead anywhere..."

"Anywhere bad," she interjected. Alright, that wasn't exactly what he was going for. "Can we at least try this?" Before he could answer, her lips were pressed to his. Wholly pressed against his as they should have been only last Friday, perhaps long before that. Her lips were soft and smelling of mint, and his own tingled like wire on voltage. Adrenaline and fire...bringing his body to life like his re-agent turning on the machine called a corpse...

 **Whoo hoo, there you have it, boys and girls! :D The ultimate first kiss, which may or may not lead to more, but I won't spoil until you read the next chapter.**


	17. Lost in Paradise

**This chapter is named so for a reason. ;)**

Chapter Sixteen

Lost in Paradise

She had never been kissed before in her life; her hands and cheeks, as well as her forehead were common in her lifetime from Carl and her father, but _never_ on her lips. Her father instructed her to wait until the wedding day so that it would be special, but that day was long gone now. She felt more than a little embarrassed at her confession to Herbert, whose lips were soft and hot on hers, which made everything seem and feel so distant, made her feel more human than she was before – or _was_ she really human after what she committed with this man she was kissing, which led to her father's death and re-animation?

There was nothing but hopelessness in her now, rendering her unable to fight back this urge.

She wanted more of this kiss. Wanted more with Herbert West. She wanted to feel alive now, do more than just bringing the dead back to life with an artificial green serum – she wanted to give herself to him more than she already had. She wanted to and wouldn't care how far they went. It wasn't like they weren't linked already...but was Herbert willing for such a step?

Herbert ended the kiss abruptly. "Meg, I..." His whole body was stiff, his vocabulary failing him. She'd done it; she got him where he was, but she saw that he was looking more human. Younger, afraid. Like she'd been. This was a side she'd never seen before; last night, she saw him shaking and vulnerable, in need of something to keep him emotionless, controlled, and not caring about anything else. He didn't need that shit to be Herbert.

He needed _someone else_ to be himself.

"You've never been kissed before."

Herbert shook his head. "Not like that, no. Never."

He was so soft-featured, so cute, and Meg believed he could have had a girl if he tried harder. Or maybe no girl interested him because he was too absorbed in his work, as well as no girls finding him attractive because of hormonal reasons of wanting a bigger, muscular guy. "How did it feel just now?" Meg asked. "To be kissed?" She felt like she was still on fire, which was dangerous, but at the same time, it brought a stirring feeling in her body she desired it, wanted to experience more now. They had all day to themselves, after all.

He lowered his eyes to the ground, those crystal greens which glittered with intelligence and intense passion. "I assume the same way it has to you, if you have, but...I feel like a core awakening for the first time in centuries, ready to unleash my elements and burn all the land. It would be uncontrollable, nothing the unfortunates can do about it." His cheeks flushed deeper red than hers, or so she thought.

Meg chewed her lip again. "That's exactly right."

He was looking at her hard now. "I assume you don't want to ignore this anymore."

"No," she answered honestly. "I'm feeling more than just...on fire. I want more than just a kiss."

His eyes widened. "Megan Halsey, you can't be serious!" he exclaimed.

She moved and grasped his face in both hands. "I _want_ this," she insisted. "I want _you,_ Herbert. Truth always hurts. I want you, but I'm mostly afraid."

"Afraid of what exactly?"

"Afraid you aren't willing."

Herbert sighed and pulled his face from her hands, turning away from her. "There's too much work to be done, Meg. I can't think of this right now. It will only serve to distract me..."

His admittance of a distraction hurt her feelings. "But I don't do it to you," she said hotly. "Do I? Am I always on your mind?" He looked up at her. He didn't speak it aloud, but the deep longing in his eyes said it all. "You _do_ think about me everyday. But you're afraid to let it all out. You're afraid of taking a step outside your comfort zone. Well, that makes two of us. But I want to do this with you, not by myself. Please, Herbert." She walked up and put her hand on his shoulder. At the touch, he rolled his shoulder back to try and shrug her off. Angry that he was denying himself real pleasure with another human being, Meg grabbed both his shoulders and turned him around again to face her before moving up and kissing him again, harder this time. Desire was very dangerous, her father said over and over; desire was hungry for more without a care for anyone or anything else, like an animal. She felt like an animal; addiction and hunger were part of human nature. It was too difficult to ignore.

~o~

He never thought to imagine what desire was - desire was the longing to get what you want the most. His desire was to conquer death, see it gone from the world forever. He'd had no plans to find a girlfriend as Crawford and Gruber always tried to set him up with, no plans to marry and have children...and above all, no plans to give his body to anyone. But his body ached to join with Meg, who was kissing him again, trying to get him to admit the truth.

He _was_ afraid to take this step. He had loved people before only to be hurt when they shunned him or when they died. He'd loved his parents but they didn't love him back. Crawford loved him, but he didn't support Herbert's research. Dr. Gruber loved him like his own son, but he was gone now. And a small part of him had been afraid that Meg wouldn't love him because they had a rocky start, and he'd hated her at first because she reminded him of his mother. His whole life had been nothing but darkness and anger, his own personal hell surviving on his pain. He long ago stopped letting people into his life who weren't his mentor.

"I've lost so many in my life," he whispered, letting his lips slip away from hers again. "My parents didn't love me, Crawford doesn't understand my work, and I lost the man who helped me to where I am now. You must understand now why I never allowed myself to love a woman." Her eyes were shining and wide, but she said nothing, which he took to mean yes. "And I don't sleep at night anymore because when I do, I remember the day I failed to save Gruber, when the police and the dean came to take me away, lock me away until your sister came to my rescue. I woke up screaming every time, remembering his eyes spewing blood and reminding me that I could not stop what we started together. He made me promise me never to let Hill get away with what he did, and I am honoring his dying wish. Now do you see why I have to keep going with this?"

Herbert was surprised to see a tear roll down her left cheek. She was really crying. How on earth did he get her to sympathize so easily? Or was it merely sympathy? Her arms were around him again, encircling his torso and her hands resting against his back. The feel of her breasts against his chest and his own hands moving down her back and come to rest on either side of her waist, the curves of her hips firm and rounded. Heat burned in his pants, in a certain area which no one had ventured before, not even himself. This magical heat Meg instilled in him was hotter than the sun of any desert in the world, hotter than the sun here in Arkham and the one in Switzerland. Crawford had said this type of longing wasn't something a man could help, and for once, he accepted it.

His groin tightened more and flared with the scorching heat of sin. Sin was wrong yet so good. But Herbert didn't care any longer. He drew back and looked into Meg's eyes, seeing comfort in her clear blue eyes – and something darker along with her pale pink lips resulted from the kisses. "Come on, I don't want to wait anymore," she whispered.

He laughed roughly. "Well, now I find myself unable to avoid this any longer," he admitted. His eyes were still on her lips, and he didn't have to voice it aloud for her to know.

"You can't stop looking at my lips." He looked back up unwillingly to see her orbs downcast, too; she was looking at his. "And yours...I want to bite them."

Herbert couldn't help but laugh. He never thought about biting the lower lip, before he remembered that it was a part of foreplay, that some roughness made it better without the proper words of the English language. He decided to test by leaning in and taking her lower pad between his teeth and nibbling gently. In response, she giggled and pulled back. Though the fire was already burning, let's just call this the addition of more oil or water which intensified the flames.

She returned the favor, taking his bottom lip the same way he'd done hers. The nerves reacted and itched deliberately. Giggling the same way she did, Herbert lowered his eyes to avoid looking at her because as much as he wanted to, he just couldn't. Unfortunately, his eyesight landed on her full breasts that he wanted to know how they felt under his palms. He moved to bring his hands up but stopped, suddenly thinking she wouldn't want it. The breasts were one of the most "sacred" parts of a woman's body, and he didn't want to end up feeling like a rapist. But then Meg took both his hands and brought them to her chest. Herbert's breath hitched when his fingers squeezed around the firm but soft curves; her breasts felt exquisite under his palms. Her eyes closed as she savored him touching her. He could spend all day enjoying feeling every part of her body, but his nether regions couldn't handle it anymore, and he could see that she couldn't take it anymore either. They were still in the kitchen, but he didn't care because it was just the two of them today.

"Step back," he ordered, throat dry with thirst.

She was back against the counter, hitting the sink. Herbert was on her again and kissing her again, pouring the passion and desperation into it. Her arms were around his neck once more; by now he learned this was common because the woman was silently telling the man she wanted more of it, that she didn't want him to stop. He felt her arms remove themselves and then his tie tugged at his neck; she was loosening the knot and tearing the tie from around his neck, tossing it to the floor. Now she was working on the buttons of his shirt until his chest was exposed to open air. First Herbert gasped when her fingers and palms moved over his stomach, her soft skin shocking him at first until heating, then he moaned when they traveled up his flat stomach and up his lightly muscled, hairless chest. He gritted his teeth when her nails swept over the small, sensitive nubs, two important parts of his male erogenous areas. His arousal was another, the real proof of how much and how _long_ he wanted her.

Thinking of that made him glance down to her long skirt, covering very much of what he knew was the female version of arousal. Women were known to be hot and slick, and just as supersensitive to touch. He left all of her clothes on, untouched, so he went straight for the kill like a predator. His fingers latched onto the denim of her skirt, ignoring his need much longer for her sake, and pulled it up so he could glide his other hand underneath and find the waistband of her underwear, feeling how damp she was. Perfect. She also wanted him _that_ much. He moved inside and found velvety moist curls like himself – but his wasn't feminine form – before probing further to find her slick folds and inner muscles wrapping around his fingers. He almost moaned. "Do you like this?" he asked softly.

Meg nodded wordlessly, eyes squeezing shut as he continued to play with her, stroking the sweetly sensitive nub of flesh called the clitoris and forcing her to throw her head back and cry out a little. He wanted to ask her again if she still liked it, but he could see she did. Herbert pressed his body against hers, her hands coming up again to grasp him, her nails digging into his shirt sleeves. Her legs spread wider to give him more access to her inner core; the deeper his fingers explored, the hotter her cavern was. He couldn't believe that the both of them, after all their lives of shackles and pain – her bound by society and obedience and he misunderstood in all forms – and they escaped together only to fall into the trap of desire. Desire both to conquer death...and desire for each other.

White-hot nectar coated his skin when he finally brought her to her orgasm, her muscles throbbing in a rhythm similar to a heartbeat before loosening altogether when it was over. Her breathing was still erratic but eventually slowed down. Her eyes were painfully tight before, now softening to open and readjust in her bliss. Herbert couldn't believe that he'd done it; he'd pleased her simply with his hand, but his turn had been neglected, and the painful reality hit him back. Drawing back as well as his fingers from Meg's core, he looked down at the bulge tenting his trousers. She saw it, too, and nodded. "I'm up for another round in my room."

~o~

What Herbert did to her with his fingers...it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever felt in her life. Meg had never felt such passion before. The whole time she was in his arms and his breath hot on her skin, feeling the bulge of his erection against her thigh as he brought her to the edge...she felt alive, like she was waking from a hundred years of cryogenic stasis. Frozen in time, against her will, feeling nothing but death when she was merely sleeping. She thought she would feel regret, but nothing happened.

Herbert didn't object or complain, either.

Now they were in her room again. He hadn't had his own orgasm yet, and now she wanted more of this. He wanted more, too. It was finally going to happen, in her room, when her father was no longer around. It would have been even scarier but more thrilling had he still been in the picture, but no. That would exist only in the imagination. The anxiety and fear of one wrong move and everything would come shattering meant nothing to her anymore. Not even Hill.

Her thighs were still hot, but the throb was returning with the anticipation. Leaving the door wide open, she turned back to Herbert and captured him with another kiss again, not bothering to grasp any part of him until they were both naked. She shoved his crisp shirt off and left the rest of his upper body bare. His skin was so smooth, but it felt so clammy. He needed to start having more nutrients in his life if he wanted to live longer, in case they didn't finish the research sooner. She felt him tremble at the impending consummation. Using the hands was one matter, but the actual joining was another. She was nervous, too, about the pain which came for her side. "Herbert, we'll be fine," she tried to assure him. He'd been so confident and content downstairs in the kitchen – a bold move, too – but now he was back to being a shy little boy again. He turned his head away from her when Meg took her sweet time to probe his small, lithe form; he was so sweet at the moment, nothing like the cold, discouraging man everyone else saw. He didn't move at all the whole time or even uttered a word. She knelt down and untied his shoes for him; he helped lift his feet up for her to remove them and his socks. His feet were so dainty enough to pass off as her own, though still obtaining their masculine quality. Standing back up, Meg reached for his belt.

His pants were gone, leaving him in a pair of soft blue briefs. She tried not to laugh at the sight of his bulging hard-on because laughing at him would make him even more embarrassed than he was. His underwear was gone soon, but she barely had time to see him wholly before it was blocked by both his hands. Meg giggled; sweet and shy! "Don't be shy," she chided gently, reaching to pull his hands away from his crotch, and NOW she saw him. Her molten heat rose slowly like a centuries-old mountain reawakening after a long slumber when she saw how his member was slender but still a decent length – not that those things mattered – and surrounded by a lush dark mass. She trailed her hands over his hips and up his sides, journeying over his smooth back and down to fondle his small, firm backside, kneading and squeezing both cheeks enough to make his breath hitch. Finally she was back and ending where the destination of his longing was. Her fingers gently smoothed Herbert's pubic bush before stroking the smooth, taut skin of his hardness, eliciting a gasp from him and a slight throwing back of the head.

"Oh, God, please..."

He pulled away from her touch. She knew why; if she kept touching him there, he would have climaxed before time was up. "Meg, take your clothes off," he said tightly. He looked her over as if to say she was beautiful like he did earlier, but her clothing did nothing for her at the present. Nodding, her breasts aching, Meg took everything off until she was nude before him. Now they were equal.

He let her take control, laying down on her bed. Meg was worried about messing this up now since they were now past the point of no return. Herbert was still shaking uncontrollably, but that wasn't all; his eyes were shining with a glaze. He was going to cry. "Oh, Herbert," she whispered, leaning down to kiss him again; at the same time, she shifted her hips and parted her legs on either side of his slender waist. He whimpered at the contact his erection made with her weep; now she felt like doing so herself. He wanted her badly but it hurt so much because of bad experiences. Meg suddenly realized if they didn't enjoy their first time, this would be really bad based on how others described the first time.

The pain was brief and tight, but it wasn't as bad as she thought it would be. Adjusting by slowly rocking her pelvis back and forth against his, she sighed with pleasure when it subsided. Herbert was looking up at her with worry but didn't ask. "I'm fine," she assured him, leaning down and kissing him again as she picked up the pace. Him inside her was gratifying enough that she couldn't stop now. His moans and closed eyes, parted lips releasing those sounds; he wasn't hiding his emotions anymore now as she was no longer hiding herself. He was happy at the moment, still in the morning and not even close to afternoon, the sunlight pouring in and bathing them with beauty. They'd been on the run long enough – and now they were lost in paradise.

 **Deed finally done. (fans self) Hot as the desert, to me. :$ But I'm happy with how this came out. :) Hope you liked it, too.**


	18. Erase This

Chapter Seventeen

Erase This

The sun was still shining when Herbert opened his eyes again. He frowned, seeing he wasn't in his own room and that he was not wearing his glasses. Then he remembered that he'd placed them on the nightstand beside him; after grabbing them, he put them on his eyes and lay back, sighing with content. His body felt refreshed, like after taking one of his doses, naked and covered with warm blankets, and a beautiful female body spooned beside his. Meg's soft short hair was tousled and over her face, her soft breaths whisping the locks up and around like wind rippling curtains. Smirking, Herbert reached over and pushed the hair out of the way and behind her ear. There, that was better.

Looking at her, he saw innocence. Innocence he knew she'd never had no matter how hard it tried to be covered up. He didn't give her anything worth money like Hill and Dr. Halsey did, nothing other than his life's work and absolute devotion...and now he'd given his body and heart to her. And in return, he began to feel emotions he never thought he would, emotions his own mother never gave him.

And then he felt like his whole body was on fire once again, only this wasn't the flame of fervor.

This was the flare of fear.

Herbert gently pried himself from Meg's embrace and slipped out of the bed. Gathering his clothes up and leaving the room as well as the door opened, he ran to his room and closed the door behind him, shocked to his core. His heart was thundering against his ribcage. He tried not to panic, because he honestly enjoyed giving himself to Meg as she did to him, but he was really frightened – but _why?_

It was because he was afraid of losing her, too.

He was afraid of losing her because he knew Hill wasn't letting her slip away so easily. He might as well be luring them both on a false sense of security as he'd told her, and when the time was right, when he found out Halsey's true condition, he would come to Herbert and end it there. That meant Meg wasn't safe as long as he was around. Now that he harbored wanting feelings for her, he knew he had to go to his cousin now, even if Crawford didn't want to speak to him, but Katherine would be the willing voice of reason.

Dressed again, Herbert took the keys to the car and ran as fast as he could, careful not to slam the door and wake Meg. Dashing for the vehicle and starting the engine, he knew it was too late to erase any of this, in case Crawford ever told him this was wrong. Well, he did tell Herbert moving in was a bad idea to begin with, but then he never would have gotten close to Megan. He felt like a...new man, if that was what it was. He felt like he truly couldn't do this on his own; well, he _had_ felt that way before, but this was different. He started to brainstorm new ideas for their plan, but he had to concentrate on the road for now so he wasn't wrecked. If Meg found out this happened, she would not be happy with him.

"Herbert?" Thank God, Katherine was home. She looked shell-shocked seeing him here. "What's wrong?"

He tried to look past her and see if his cousin was home. "Is Crawford home?"

"He went to town for the day," she answered, frowning now. "Meg?"

"She's doing better," he answered. "And that's why I'm here, but I doubt Crawford won't be pleased." The words sounded silly to his own ears; since when did he start caring about what his cousin thought about what he did with his life? "Meg and I..." He trailed off, too embarrassed now to finish. He felt his cheeks burn as the blood rushed to them. Katherine caught the blush and burst into giggles, covering her mouth.

"My God, you and her finally –!"

He quickly stepped foward. "Can I please come in and talk about it in private?"

"Alright, come in and I can make the tea?" she offered, stepping aside. She was in a cream-colored lace blouse and black jeans, hair bunned up as usual. The house was playing some soft classical music somewhere to soothe the atmosphere. It was working. But to even think about discussing making love with Meg's twin sister was awkward, to say the least. "So, how was it? Did it make Meg...any better after last night?" She laughed her famous silver-bell from the kitchen as Herbert sat down on the sofa. He could hear the bustling of getting the teapot out.

"You could say that," he answered, "but we had a rather tough time admitting how we...feel, I suppose. Everything about these things is still rather alien to me. Everything I never thought I would have."

"It's love," Katherine answered cheerily. "Like when I met Crawford. I never thought I would meet someone like him either."

Herbert turned around to look at her form through the doorway from the living room leading into the kitchen. "It's different with your sister," he said. "Meg and I were different in the beginning, not off to a good start, but then...I began to slowly trust her not to betray or abandon me. I believe the reason I value partnership with her is because she makes me feel good about myself, believes in me as I believed in her breaking free from the bonds her father's ideals put on her."

She paused after turning the burner on and returned his gaze from the opened doorway, though she was smiling. "Herbert, believe me when I say that partners don't do what you guys just did. It's also more than just lusting after the body, more than sharing your work – it's love. Indescribable, burning, unbridled, endless. And it's denied a lot and not believed in, but it's real." She abandoned the pot and walked over to him, sitting down beside him. "You're in love with my sister, Herbert."

~o~

She knew all along from the very beginning. She'd seen it simply because of how close they'd gotten, how they looked at each other even if that didn't last long, how Meg defended him from her father and Dr. Hill, and how protective Herbert was of her in every step of the way – even if they didn't realize it sooner. And even if Herbert was too scared to acknowledge whatever it was he was feeling, but you can't control love any more than you could the sun, moon, stars and all the elements of the world. It had been that way with her and Crawford. The moment she laid her eyes on him during therapy sessions and she helped him get through post-traumatic stress, she knew he was the one.

Herbert's jaw was partially slackened before he closed it and turned his gaze away from her to look at the glass coffee table. "I don't even know if –"

"It _is_ ," Katherine insisted, putting one hand on his and the other over his shoulder; the simple act forced him to look up at her again, eyes shadowed through his glasses. "Herbert, don't run from it anymore if you know what it is. Did she, by any chance, say anything to you about it?"

He nodded. "She...did. She saw right through me I was frightened of taking a step out of my comfort zone, and so was she. She called me, and I quote, 'handsome but mysterious ever since we met.'" He paused to stifle nervous laughs, covering his mouth. Katherine felt like laughing with him. Well, he _was_. "She respected the fact I don't care about anyone else's opinions. I pulled her free from the hold Hill and her father had over her and introduced her to a new place. We're getting far now because her father tried to stop us, but he proved a better success than the one that killed him. And most of all, Meg was willing to...go down with me and follow me wherever I choose to lead us."

"See? That's love."

"Crawford!" Katherine scolded, looking up at him. They hadn't spoken since last night; in fact, they barely exchanged any words since this morning. "How long have you been standing there?"

He sighed and shifted from foot to foot. "The whole time," he admitted. "You didn't hear me come in."

"Obviously," Herbert snapped. "Came back to lecture me now on my choice of woman, something you've always badgered me about all our lives? Newsflash, cousin, Meg isn't engaged anymore and she can be with whoever now." He shifted away from Katherine, so angry and infuriated now that he didn't need to be close to anyone at the moment.

"No, I'm not here to lecture you," Crawford answered. "I wanted to say I was sorry for everything."

Herbert's eyes widened again. "Excuse me?"

"I said I was sorry."

"Oh, I heard you. But do tell me why and what got you to have a major epiphany," Herbert challenged, not trusting him now. Katherine didn't blame hm; he had major trust issues all his life, and now was no exception. And why was her fiancée telling them this now?

"Because I realize what a bastard I've been now," Crawford answered, walking into the room. "I mean, you and I grew up together, always looked out for each other, and I was there for you when your parents weren't. I was trying to protect you, because that's what family does: look out for each other. And that's what I was trying to do with you in your work." Katherine wanted to say some words of her own, but chose to stay out of it. This conversation was between the family.

"Help me, by trying to talk me out of the most important thing of my life?" Herbert snarled. "Death is a disease to this world, and it was enough that I lost Dr. Gruber who was ever a father to me. I'm not going through this again, Crawford."

The latter retaliated from where he was standing. Crawford let out a noise of exasperation and threw his hands in the air, turning away from the couch and dropping his arms to run one hand through his hair. "I'm not talking about the life-and-death barriers or Gruber! I'm talking about how family is supposed to look out for each other, love and support no matter what differences! This world is always falling apart at the seams, but we always have each other. You and I might not always see eye-to-eye in our different career fields, but we are always there whenever we need each other! Herbert..." He lowered his hand and turned his attention back to them. His features were soft as he walked around the table and knelt in front of Herbert. Then his sweet face began to twist as he lowered his face to the floor. Now that she was seeing her fiancée on the verge of crying, Katherine felt her heart break, too. Now she regretted the horrible things she said to him last night, rejecting him and so forth.

"I'm sorry," Crawford choked out. "I'm sorry I don't see what you're trying to do."

Herbert was softening, but his guard was still up. Katherine wondered if today with Meg was the cause of his softening around the edges. She smiled and thanked her sister if that was the case. "Herbert, I don't expect you to believe me," Crawford wept, though he didn't let the tears come, "but I won't interfere anymore with your work, but that won't stop me from trying to protect both you and Meg."

Herbert's face showed no emotion, but then he surprised both him and Katherine with this: a single, clear tear rolled down his cheek, no words needed to explain. Even more, his lips quivered, and he burst out into an equal fit of sobs and leaned into his cousin. Crawford, the kinder at heart, took Herbert into his arms and held him there, their cries drowning out Katherine's own as her heart melted at the reconciliation and the fact that Herbert finally opened his heart to another – and Meg finally taking another step towards becoming an independent woman.

~o~

Herbert wasn't around when she awoke. She frowned when she didn't find him in the basement, either. Meg redressed and fixed lunch, waiting for him to come home. When she awoke, it was barely noon. Her body felt like it had risen from the ashes, like a phoenix. She'd died and been reborn through this morning, even after a heated confession. So fast, but the faster the speed, the greater the thrill. Herbert had been such an innocent in the ways of passion, but he'd been gentle and enjoying every minute of it as she did. Slipping out of bed after stretching, Meg then found herself looking at the small stain of red where she'd been laying. Blood, showing that her virginity had been taken.

She stood there for a moment, gathering her thoughts. It hadn't been hard, or even painful as other girls said it was, and those women probably didn't know what it was like to truly lose their virginity. But she did. She knew she and Herbert were really that special after all this time even when this was only her first time – and Herbert's – and no need for rose petals and candles like in the movies and books she read as a young girl. The first time seemed like the right time, and it was one hell of a time after last night's events. Safe to say it just happened when it needed to, as well as taking the last breath out of both of their confessions.

She frowned when it was nearing twelve-thirty. Where was he now and WHY did he leave her before she woke? Her blood ran cold when a new thought crossed her mind: he must have freaked out about this morning and went to clear his head? Her heart began to freeze and crack due to the subzero temperature her blood reached. Meg felt like crying because if it was true...and then the door opened, stopping her mental train right there.

"Where were you?" she demanded when he walked into the kitchen.

He paused and looked at her without a shred of emotion as he preferred to do. "I went out, as you figured," he answered softly, though not coldly. "Because I..." Then he stopped, lowering his eyes again. Slowly, he reached behind himself and pulled out a little blue box from his back pocket. "I think this should explain it," Herbert said, finally meeting her eyes.

Meg was stunned; Herbert didn't seem like the type to go out and get her anything, even if it was a piece of jewelry. Why did he decide this today of all times? She ended the line of questions there. Why was she thinking this? Did she HAVE to want a reason for this? She accepted jewelry from Carl that wasn't even her style, and because her father had her bought off like in the old times. It made her curious as to what Herbert had for her.

To her surprise, when he handed it to her so she could open it herself, she gasped. "My God..." She was looking at the symbol of what she saw on the EKG machine every day only to often see it flat and devoid of life. The necklace was silver, the charm bearing the jagged lines of the beating heart set with diamonds, and dangling below was a little heart-shaped diamond blinking with white fire. This was more than she expected – and even better than anything Carl or Daddy ever gave her. Nothing over-the-top, yet the symbol of the ever beating heart.

"Crawford and Katherine helped pick it out," Herbert told her sheepishly. "I know it's nowhere near what you got from...him...but..."

It was cute to see him flustered and back to being a little boy again. She ignored the voice in her head telling her that a gift from the man you slept with meant you were the mistress now, but there was no such thing in her book. She knew exactly what this meant, even when he didn't say it aloud. Herbert West was slowly changing. He wasn't the cold scientist she first met, and she never knew him as a little boy who had problems with his own family, but this man before her had yet to learn more about life before he could understand death – and it amazed her that he had more of a heart than she thought before. He annoyed her half the time, the latest events still frightened her, but they were there to deal with it together.

"Herbert, thank you."

His smile was small and gawky. "I was worried of getting you the wrong one. I have never done this before."

"Is this your way of telling me you love me instead of saying it when we woke up together?"

His eyes grew to the size of bowling balls. "Meg, I..." His hesitation was back, the fear back just like that. Meg sighed and shook her head. She couldn't deal with this now that it was too late to turn back.

"Please, don't deny it, Herbert. I know you are. I know I am with you. We don't need to go back to explaining ourselves again, do we?" She looked him hard in the eyes. "And Herbert, how can you expect to do anything with life, even the research, when you don't admit it is love? Love drives everything, not shutting yourself from the world. Passion drives everything."

"I know that," he said firmly. "But..." He shook his head. "I could hardly go about any day without the fear of more pain that I've endured enough in my life. Love hurts. My own mother, even Gruber's death. And I don't want to lose you, either."

"I won't go anywhere unless you want me to," Meg said heatedly, holding the box closer to her heart, trying to show him literally as the necklace that held the meaning. "You're as loyal to me as the work you set your whole life on, as I set my whole life on saving lives. You might be fascinated with death while I am with life, but we are two sides of the SAME coin. Loyalty burns with the same passion as love does. Love is the fuel for the fire of devotion. You understand what I mean? We're linked, as we've figured before. No one – not even Hill – can break that."

Those soft eyes mirroring the glow of the re-agent flashed with exactly the same word she'd used over and over, that smile back into place. "You're right; nothing will stand in our way." He moved closer in and leaned down, his face inches away, but he didn't kiss her. "I suppose it's too late to erase this now."

Meg laughed. "I believe that's what I've been saying all along. Partners do more than work together. We weren't simply fooling around a little while ago, Herbert." She looked down then when she remembered she was still holding the box, the charm glittering like the stars. "The heart beats a thousand times a day with love, which strikes like lightning, natural and inevitable. It comes without rules and limitations – "

"And it diffuses with devotion and dread," Herbert finished, a soft gasp following before he leaned down and kissed her again, happier than he'd ever been in his life. Meg cried with joy with him when they broke apart, arms wrapped around each other in their newfound joy.


	19. Taking Over Me

**We got some re-animated comedy in here, but try not to laugh TOO hard. XD**

Chapter Eighteen

Taking Over Me

So yesterday was instead spent mostly with Meg, but Herbert enjoyed it. He thought he'd anticipated the consequences if he gave in to his desire for her, but he hadn't. He had gone to the jewelry store in town with with his cousin and future cousin-in-law to get her that necklace because he knew it was the one for her, even though the idea had been theirs all along. Yet he always knew it was hers. He was happy that it was. Since then, she hadn't taken it off once.

He also managed to find the perfect animal specimen which didn't come from the hospital, and Crawford had been the volunteer to find one. It was a parakeet, left to starve to death when the owner forgot to feed it. His and Katherine's neighbor was its owner, disposing it into the trash before Crawford snuck into the backyward and took the dead bird back into his house as soon as the neighbor was gone. Herbert had never had a bird as a subject, so this should be interesting.

He and Meg were in jovial moods this Wednesday morning. Although, the mood was sure to damper once they reached Hill's class. Herbert looked forward for more competition; he scowled when Meg tried to put him down against this because she wanted a good, uneventful day for once. As much as he wanted to respect her wishes, he enjoyed humiliating Hill in front of his own classroom.

"Meg! And Mr. West," Hill said, his face fallen once he saw Herbert come in at the same time. "I was worried sick for the both of you yesterday." Herbert sneered at their professor – the bastard didn't care about him – but Hill chose not to say anything or even return it.

"You did call and check in yesterday, Carl," Meg reminded him, keeping her books closer to her chest; the act was to hide her necklace that she still wore, from him. From Herbert.

"I did, and I trust you are feeling a little better after what happened with your father," Hill answered, features softening into a smile. "I know it was difficult for you, but now I see you're so...chipper. I sense some great change in you." His tone was now lined with skepticism. "Something about you that I have never before seen in a long time."

She shrugged, face reading every sign of loss before Herbert stepped in like the conquering hero. "She just lost her father, Doctor, and now she's onward towards a new step in her life."

"I don't believe I asked you, West," Hill said through gritted teeth.

"And _I_ believe," Herbert countered, "that maybe she just might not want to talk right now." She'd been through a lot and did not need her ex-fiancée on her rear today or any day to follow. Hill was about to counteract when Meg interrupted them.

"Enough, both of you. My father just went insane and I would love nothing more than the both of you to behave today."

Hill looked surprised at her newfound boldness. Herbert almost smirked to himself; Meg had him in his place for the time being. Then Hill pulled himself together and nodded, clearing his throat. "Of course. We'll save this for another time." By another time, he meant after class. He wouldn't let them get away that easily. Well, Herbert planned what he concocted for Hill for after class ended. No spoilers until the time came.

He'd placed the thing in its cage and hidden in a corner of the autopsy room so no one – not even Hill – would see it. It would soon be a matter of time before it broke out of its cage and attacked a target that came near it. He could only hope it'd be none of the other students, or even himself and Meg, to go near it. Whoever passed by it was the target of attack.

The hour passed by smoothly, Herbert doing his best to behave as Meg wanted him to, yet a few times he couldn't help himself but giggle every time he thought back to the rat he re-animated from an alleyway he found it in, brought it home and kept it locked up and contained for now before bringing it to Hill's class and in a cage to hide. His idea was one of the most brilliant ever, and there would be no way for Hill to know it was HE, Herbert West, his most notorious and youngest adversary ever.

"Class dismissed," Hill announced as soon as the minute arrow struck, and the moment of truth came. Just as soon as everyone was rising and about to leave and Hill was walking over to the cabinets to put the tools unused away –

"AAAAAHHHH!" Hill's sudden scream and throw back of the head, as well as his sudden jerkings of the left leg and his whole body spinning around brought forth shrieks as well as laughter when they saw WHAT was attacking him. "What are you doing standing there?!" he shouted as the vicious rat crawled up his leg and clawed through his pants in the process. "Get it off!" However, the thing was too fast for anyone to act fast as it soon jumped off his thigh and went straight to his – "OH, DAMN IT ALL!" he howled when the rodent latched its teeth on his most private and valuable of parts, earning more screams and jerkings of his pelvis forward and backward, side to side and making the girls – even Meg – double over with laughter until Dr. Riley came in and gaped in shock at the sight. Herbert stifled his giggles with his hand over his mouth. He hadn't felt this good since the success with Halsey and losing his virginity to his daughter.

~o~

"I can't believe you did that!" Meg could barely contain herself when she and Herbert returned home at the end of the day. The memory of Carl Hill attacked by a rat in his own classroom was more than she could bear to witness. "And I asked you to behave!"

"But I did!" Herbert answered, giggling like a madman the same way he did the night of the scuffle with Rufus. "I was good the whole time of class, so I thought the end was even more suitable. Hill got what came to him, and you know it."

Meg groaned and shook her head as she dropped her books and bag on the kitchen counter before following him to the basement. Yeah, he was right. Carl got it coming to him, and it was so funny she thought she would die laughing happy from it. To know what he thought he would use on her on their "wedding night" he would have damaged permanently. If only Katherine was here to see that, but she would tell them tonight. She and Crawford were coming over with a friend of theirs from the police force. Learning of that made Meg panic slightly. Someone from the police department coming here to _HER HOUSE_? She was afraid of this guy finding out about the latest subject eventually – a parakeet. What a sad story that was, the neighbor forgetting to feed it, and it made her angry. She hoped they would have a better chance with this. Herbert had made a small change in the formula, so there might be the chance. Meg knew she believed in Herbert – but she also knew that she should expect the same results.

Better safe than sorry.

"Its system is different than the cat and dog, as well as the rabbit and guinea pig," Herbert mused as he laid the bird down on its stomach, the wings slightly opening on the sides. "But let's pray that it isn't the same as the rat and the cat."

She said nothing as she watched him do the same routine in injecting the needle into the back of the neck. She picked up the timer she bought yesterday and pressed the start button. However, barely five or six seconds before the little thing screeched and burst up from the table, flapping it swings and sailing over their heads. Meg screamed and dove under the table for cover. "Damn it, Herbert!" she shouted. "You had to have a bird for once!"

"Excuse me," he countered, picking up the shovel and whacking it into the air after the thing, "but _Crawford_ brought it to me!"

"Well, then, blame your cousin for it!" Meg wasn't placing the blame on anyone, but maybe a bird wasn't in the best interests of a test subject next time. She crawled out of her hiding space to help him since she knew it was the coward's method. "Herbert, let's kill this thing before it hides!"

The thing was still screeching and flying at them when Herbert responded. "Or maybe we should get your gun from upstairs and kill this thing!" She froze; damn it, how could she forget her pistol? Might as well risk this thing getting something wrecked in her house. They didn't get any scratches this time, but they would as soon as possible. Herbert threw down the shovel and grabbed her wrist, dragging her up the stairs and opening the door for them to burst out, the parakeet flying out and over their heads –

 _BANG!_

Blood, guts, bones and feathers scattered about and some landed on both her and Herbert; she got her hair matted with blood and her face. "Goddamn it, who did that?!"

"I did."

Meg looked up and let her jaw drop at the sight of the black man in the brown leather jacket and white turtleneck, the barrel of his handgun smoking. "Damn, what the hell was that?" he asked, making a face at the mess on the floor. "That bird just attacked ya'll for no reason?"

"Bubba!" Katherine came up behind him, looking at him first and then the bird matter on the polished floor. "God, seriously? That's one way to meet my sister and cousin-in-law!" she scolded, before apologizing to her. "Meg, I'm sorry about this. This is Detective Leroy Brown, our friend in the force."

The detective burst out laughing and put his weapon away. "Oh, right, you must be Megan." He walked over and took her hand in his, bringing it up and kissing the back of it. She blushed. "Please, call me Bubba. Everyone does." At the sound of Herbert's clearing of the throat, he looked up. "Ah, and Herbert West. Your cousin has told me a lot about you."

"I certainly hope not." She followed Herbert's gaze to where Crawford had finally showed up behind Katherine. What did he tell Bubba, really? She doubted he would say anything of what they were doing...

"Oh, he hasn't really said a lot," Bubba added, laughing. "But I really look forward to getting to know more of the both of you tonight."

~o~

She chose her blush-colored lace dress for Friday night with Dr. Carl Hill. Just that morning after Dean Halsey was committed to his office, Katherine had seethed when the man called her house and informed her of the event. She fixed her hair in her favorite half-updo when she remembered that morning when the phone rang just as she was leaving for work.

"I wasn't expecting to hear from you so soon, Dr. Hill," she'd said when the man called her. She wasn't the least bit surprised he knew that she was Alan Halsey's other daughter, the estranged one to be exact. But she wasn't expecting his "proposition".

He'd laughed. _"My apologies, Doctor. I should have arranged this sooner than such grieving circumstances. The fact we have not spoken since you left the school, I have heard you've made a name for yourself. And my congratulations on your upcoming wedding."_ She'd snorted; this wasn't just a social call and she'd known it.

"Thank you, but I know congratulating me isn't the only reason for telephoning me," she'd said.

 _"You're right. I was about to get a hold of your sister when I realized I wanted to speak to you first."_

Katherine had frowned, twirling the cord of the phone around her finger. "Why did you want to talk to _me_ of all people?" she'd asked suspiciously. "You couldn't phone Megan right away and instead chose to ask her sister for permission?" She'd almost burst out laughing and infuriating him, which she would have loved to see on his face in person. However, his response wasn't what she'd expected.

 _"No, Katherine. I only called because I am willing to...bring the family together and resolve this mess."_

She'd almost dropped the phone. Was he serious? He was contacting her because he wanted to have _dinner_ just after Halsey went "insane" and his daughter ended the engagement with the man her sister was now on the phone with? Katherine looked down at her watch and saw she would be late if she didn't hang up now. "Dr. Hill, as much as I'd love to answer you right now, I have to get to work or else I am late. I'd rather answer that as soon as I'm off tonight."

He'd chuckled. _"I will take that as a yes. Friday at the Halsey house, six PM. You and your fiancée together. I will notify your sister now. And I look forward to then."_ He'd hung up on her then, leaving her fuming and slamming the phone down while doing her best not to break it. She'd left for work in a fury but did her best to focus on the road afterwards.

Hill had lied to Meg when he told her Katherine approved, as well as Crawford. But Crawford had been as suspicious and unwilling as she had when he learned of the date. Katherine told her twin just on Wednesday that Carl Hill fibbed about her approval, making things even more tense than they already were. And it'd be a lie to say Herbert took it better than they did.

But all of them could agree on one thing: what was Hill REALLY planning that night?

They also knew they could not take it too lightly on the fact that Hill took the breaking off of the wedding better than they thought, too.

She came early with Crawford and Bubba, who had decided to come along for the ride. Let's say he thought it weird that a little parakeet would just go crazy and raid Meg's home like that; Meg had told him it probably contracted a virus that made it do that, but then again, it would have been a very odd explanation had she told anyone else. Bubba had seen what happened with Edward Pretorius, but did he really buy the story about the parakeet? He was their friend, but he was also on the police force. She'd brought him from Switzerland not to be apprehended upon caught.

She walked up to Meg's room, knocking first before entering. Upon getting permission from the occupant from the other side of the room, she stopped and hitched her breath when she saw Meg in the black, orchid-printed dress, flattering every curve of her body. "You look amazing," Katherine commented. "Better than me." She gestured herself in her softer dress to which the other twin scoffed and shook her head.

"Not better than you. Don't ever think that."

Katherine laughed and walked over to her, embracing her. "We're equal, not one better than the other," she cited, thinking of her mother. Erin once said that twins were never better than each other, the both of them together stronger than any other sibling bond in existence.

The sound of the doorbell ended it. Meg sighed and broke free unwillingly. "Here goes nothing. And I already made dinner. I suppose hot pasta is fitting for a family dinner," she said sarcastically. She turned away from her and looked down at her reflection in the mirror out of habit. And they said when you looked into the mirror, you see many things that are taking over your every being.

"I don't feel like greeting him," Meg told them all as she joined Katherine with the gentlemen downstairs. "If one of you gentlemen could do it for me while I help set the table." She sounded like she hated being ungracious to them but they understood her. Without waiting for them to answer, she was already heading in the direction of the kitchen and dining room. Katherine didn't want to meet Hill either, so she followed. Herbert joined them.

"I've said this before, and I'll say it again," he said, "the less I have to see, the better. He's trouble, and to have him here tonight is risky enough as it is."

"Oh, believe me, Mr. West, I won't be here long, other than to have a nice dinner with the family," Carl Hill said, announcing himself, with Crawford scurrying past him just to get away from him and sat down. Poor Crawford. Katherine nodded to Hill but said nothing to him; she refused to talk to him, and Bubba clearly had said whatever it was enough to him. And Herbert refused to talk to him, too, just glared at him. Meg now sat down at the head of the table since she was now the sole owner, for the time being, and the sooner did Hill join her by his usual place, his eyes looked her over and he smiled – making Katherine's stomach stir again – until it faded when he spotted the heartbeat necklace from _Herbert._

"Meg dear, where did you get this...'charming' pendant?" He did not mean the word charming by the slightest.

 **Uh oh. :S Trouble abrewing. Let's see where this goes now.**


	20. Never Go Back

Chapter Nineteen

Never Go Back

The jagged hill of a heartbeat you would find on the EKG machine was unmistakable, as was the heart-shaped diamond below. This gem could in no way be of Megan's own choosing. Carl knew from instinct that only a "loved one" could come up with something _touching_ as a heart beating a thousand times more a day.

His heart fell as his rage rose like tidal waves.

The truth had hit him with the full force of a tropical storm.

 _West_ had given that cursed thing to her.

"Where did you get this?" he asked her again when she didn't answer. He ignored everyone else around them and fixed his attention on Meg, who stiffened when he reached over and picked it up, holding it into his fingers despite once being held by another when they fastened it around her neck. She, however, shrugged.

"Does it matter how I got it?" she asked. "I really love it, finally got something of my own instead of from my father's permission."

He almost lost it when she voiced her newfound independence. He had wanted to show her that he was in charge, but that would mean scaring her into submission and cracking her mind. Besides that, her whole family was here, even the police force counting the detective friend of Katherine and her fiancée; why did they even bother bringing _him_ along? Unless they counted him as family of their own. He looked up at them all when he heard the snickers, and before they hid them fast, he caught the stupid grins on their faces which made him angry at the humiliation. It was bad enough he suffered enough in his own classroom at the teeth and claws of that filthy beast which had somehow gotten into the autopsy room. Being laughed at by everyone – even West and Meg – was more than his bruised dignity could bear.

And speaking of humiliation, he planned on doing exactly that in the event of time to the little midget who was Hans Gruber's favorite student. Who made him a fool long enough, in front of the fool himself and then Alan and his daughter, then in front of the whole class.

And now he'd taken what belonged to _him._

In that split second, Carl Hill realized that love was really worth fighting for.

~o~

Never did Herbert ever think he would be making love to Meg this way on a Saturday morning. This time, they were in his bed, and he was in charge. It seemed that this would end up being a routine for them both: taking turns in each other's rooms, depending on the owner, said owner was taking the lead.

"Oh, Herbert..." she moaned when Herbert thrust into her again from behind. He was currently kneeling behind her in the broad morning hours with one knee between her legs and painstakingly positioning himself correctly so he could enter her without hurting her, and so he was also comfortable. He heard himself gasping and panting wordlessly, almost like a dog thirsty for water, eager to get it while making a mess. He leaned over her slightly and reached to grasp her shoulder briefly before moving down and over to cup her breast as he increased his thrusts. Meg opened her mouth a little wider and released little monosyllabic cries, throwing her head forward and bobbing it up and down now. Herbert's heart pumped faster, his loins aching with the need to release at the sight.

"Ah, Meg, I'm –" He groaned when he found his relief, his seed emptying itself right into her, her muscles clenching around him in response as they welcomed his cream. "Oh, _yes._ " Herbert hissed when his groin tingled pleasantly in the aftermath of his orgasm. He murmured to himself when he laid down over her, after he extracted himself gently and let her roll onto her back, of course. He rested his head on her chest so he could listen to her rapidly beating heart. Herbert felt like he wanted to sleep even though he wanted to get back to work, but Meg insisted on a Saturday off.

"All work and no play can drive a man and a woman crazy," she'd quoted, making him giggle with her.

"Oh, damn, who could that be?" he seethed when the doorbell was rung repeatedly. It was after nine in the morning; it couldn't be Kathy or Crawford, was it? Meg shifted under him, her way of telling him she wanted to get up. He grinned when he looked at her deliciously nude body as she grabbed her robe to cover herself up. Before the silken obstacle hid what belonged to him, Herbert thought for a second that she looked like Eve. Savage, unsubmissive, just as her creator made her to be...overall beautiful and triumphant. Such characteristics hit him hard and fast to his masculine core. He stretched and moved to grab his underwear, pants and shirt for now, wanting to join her. However, he should have guessed who the unexpected "visitor" was at this ungodly time of a weekend morning he was supposed to spend with Megan uninterrupted.

"Dr. Hill," he said coolly, stepping back from Meg. "We weren't expecting you."

"I see why." The look he gave them both as he swept his eyes over Meg in her robe and Herbert in most of his clothes was infuriating. He could imagine how Meg was feeling at the present. "But I came to collect Meg for the moment. I'd advise for a dressing up," he told her, making her take a minor step back. "As I've finally cleared some time in my schedule, this is about your father."

~o~

She hadn't seen her father since that Monday night, and not surprisingly enough, she hadn't felt anything like she had since the shock. She thought she wasn't going back there again, but as soon as Carl led her into his office and showed her the window which showed the padded walls and flooring – as well as the figure in the straightjacket growling and snarling like the animal it was now, fighting to get out of its restraints and slamming its head against the walls, leaving blood smears and trails in shades ranging from apple red to raspberry, from violet-red to the darkest purple. But when her eyes met the wild face, her heart fell and shattered like a glass figurine not handled with care, dropped by accident.

"Daddy..." she whispered, holding her hand over her chest, closing it into a fist and grabbing some of her sweater simply because she needed something to hold besides the man coming to stand behind her.

"He can't hear you or see you," Hill told her. "It's a one-way mirror." All Meg could do was nod; she couldn't speak because now she was having conflicted emotions. The last time she saw or spoke to her father was in his office which ended terribly and then his death in the morgue. Now she was seeing him in a padded cell, in a straightjacket, beating himself to a bloody pulp. She never reconciled with him or told him she was sorry – but how could they? She'd known him her whole life to know he would never move past anything, besides simply waving anything off with a smile or scoff and pretend nothing happened. But she wouldn't let Carl see how she was really feeling, keeping the grieving face in check, faking ignorance.

"What is wrong with him, Carl?"

He sighed and put his hand on her shoulder; she almost cringed. "Meg, until we know what happened exactly, there is no way to determine his course of recovery. That is why I brought you here." He paused for a moment. "I'm going to ask you, as his legal residing family member, to sign a release form so I can operate exploratory surgery."

Meg jerked her head up, horror suddenly overtaking her as it did before. "Is that absolutely necessary, Carl?" By means of exploratory surgery, that meant opening the skull and brain, taking blood samples and everything, which meant everything she and Herbert feared...they were finished. Everything they were striving to accomplish – ruined.

"I know how difficult this must be for you, but I'm convinced that your father's problem may be neurological. And of course," he assured her as he sat down on the edge of his desk, right beside the mannequin of the human head, the left half of the skull taken off to show the remainder of the skull and the brain, "we'll take every precaution, do bloodwork just to be safe, as a start. You _must_ trust me." He looked her hard, insistently.

Her whole body was suffocating under the pressure of his eyes piercing into her. "I really don't know about this," she tried. "I wish I had more time to think this over."

"Megan, time isn't on our side if you want your father to get well again. I need a decision _now_."

She flinched at the firm layer his tone had grown. He had her in his grasp; it was as though he'd caught her in a cage and trapped her in it. She lowered her eyes to the floor. She had no way out now, no way to run to Herbert without risking exposure, not that they wouldn't be anyways. She nodded wordlessly. He nodded back before turning his attention to the mannequin at his side. "I want to take a look at the right frontal lobe..."

Meg cut him off. "I don't want to know. Just help him." The clipboard was handed in front of her without a word. She felt like she was melting under the highest temperature in the oven as she wrote her signature before handing it back to Carl. Ignoring him, she stood up and walked over to the window where her father was still doing what he did best, mindlessly and violently. The danger was even more eminent because she'd signed what she personally called a "death warrant" for her and Herbert. There had to be another way as foolproof as it really was. "Please, Carl," she begged, turning back to him. "Please, let me talk to him."

"No. I must insist you leave his treatment up to me." He was moving closer to her now, hypnotic eyes still on her, so tight and magnetic that she couldn't tear her own away. Shivers coursed through her nerves so violently she thought she was going to give way. She didn't like that look one bit. All her life she'd given herself to him and her father, but now that her father was a crazed re-animated corpse behind them, she had the worst feeling that she'd unchained something much worse than escaping his strict rules –

Meg screamed when something thudded itself against the glass of the window. Whipping around, her father's savage face was there. Even though he couldn't see them, as Hill had said, he was banging his forehead now against the glass so some blood was smeared. No matter how many times she tried not to look, that face burned into her memory and haunted her heart. After she left, she would end up drowning in the inescapable fear returned with the revenge of a power core overload. She lost it then.

"I'm going to take care of him myself, Carl! I don't need your help in this, and I AM going to fix this once and for all!" As far as she was concerned, she would never go back to turning to Carl Hill again.

~o~

Meg spurned him for the last time. He'd gone to her house and found her in the state of undress while West was mostly there; he knew what they were up to long before he came. To know West already took what he should have taken in months to come...he stood in the way long enough and would be dealt with soon. But for now, Carl had Alan on the operating table to think about.

It was ten in the morning that he scheduled the examination in the autopsy room, with Mace on guard. Three orderlies struggled to restrain Alan while Hill managed to grab the sedative and subdue him to taking in. It amazed him that while Alan came to on the table, he didn't put up a fight with him. Whatever was the issue with him, he was determined to find out.

Now he was looking at the X-ray scans of the body and brain so far, and he had to say that what he found was extremely irregular. Between the end of the rib cage and pelvis, the first and second lumbar vertebrae were crushed. At the posterior root of the spinal cord, the dorsal ganglion was torn; the inferior cervical ganglion was as well – on top of that, the neck itself was _broken._ If a person had broken their neck, they would have been dead or paralyzed. Which could mean only one thing, sending Carl Hill into a torrent of emotions ranging from shock, surprise, but overall excitement.

Dean Alan Halsey was clearly _DEAD_.

And Herbert West as well as Meg played roles in this.

He slowly turned his attention back to where the dead – or rather, an apparently half-dead, half-alive – dean lay strapped down. Then he looked to the monitor showing jagged lines on the screen and now on paper coming out for the report. The brainwaves were erratic and unstable, certain nerves disconnected as were the ones in previously mentioned parts of the body. Hill had never seen anything like this! He had to study his esteemed colleague more closely now, but first he had to give him the proper treatment so he must remain docile during the process. The situation had become thus more complex than originally, so Carl had to resort to the only sure way. Smiling to himself behind his mouth mask, he picked up his laser surgical drill.

After this, he would pay Herbert West a personal visit.

 **Uh oh, we got trouble now. :O Now we're getting to the plot device now, as my boyfriend loves to put it.**


	21. Haunted

**What happens in here was planned from the very beginning, but I won't spoil what it is exactly, although I WILL give you a trigger warning.**

Chapter Twenty

Haunted

If Hill had found out about her father's condition – possibly enough – then they had to do something to protect themselves and the work. Herbert wasn't sure what to do, but he knew he had to pack up the work now and fast before they returned. He stashed the notes and the vials of re-agent into a black bag he kept from Gruber before he died; this was above all other things he ever owned in his life, but Meg wouldn't agree. She'd need to grab whatever else it was she needed in case they should go into hiding.

That might mean abandoning Crawford and Katherine.

Herbert never saw his life without his cousin, except while he was away in Switzerland, but that hardly counted. Crawford was another important link in his life even if they didn't always agree on certain things. Katherine had saved his life from the Zurich asylum, brought him home to get the formula right without anymore problems...but he should have counted Carl Hill, especially after what he did to Hans. He would get him for this. For riding their tails and coming to wreck everything they've worked hard for.

He remembered Gruber's words before he died in Herbert's arms that day: _"You're the one left to preserve my legacy and finish what we started. Promise me, Herbert... promise me that...you will...finish what we started. You can't turn back now."_ He did not regret anything he did by the slightest. Gruber wouldn't have wanted him to quit now just because his rival, so-called colleague destroyed his life.

He could just hear him telling him so right now.

"You're right," Herbert whispered. "I won't give any of this up, and Hill will be sorry he ever interfered." Perfect timing when the door opened, and Meg walked inside.

He stopped when he saw her face. Tears were streaming down her soft cheeks. His rage boiled in his blood. "Meg, what has he done?" he growled, moving her way and taking her face into both of his hands, forcing her to look at him. He clearly saw the pain in them, the confusion – all of the same emotions he saw in Gruber's dying eyes. "Megan..."

"He's going to examine Daddy," she croaked out.

He exploded internally then. He couldn't scream at her because he knew she couldn't talk her way out of this; Hill was a criminal mastermind, in his own way. He was a master manipulator, something Herbert knew he was himself. That was the only thing they had in common, and for that, he had to go no matter how much Herbert had to get his hands dirty at this point. "What did you have to do?" he demanded, letting his hands drop and clench into fists.

"He insisted that I tell him now, ignored my...request to think about this longer so you and I could do something about it," she whispered brokenly. "He wouldn't take no for an answer. I had no choice when he handed me the clipboard. He wouldn't let me anywhere near him, either."

Herbert swore under his breath and turned away from her. "Then he'll find out. Exploratory surgery, I guess." He halfway turned his head around to see her nodding without saying the word yes aloud. "He's onto us for sure. He's bound to waste no time in coming back to us. We have to get away soon. No delays." He turned back and grasped her hand, leading her up to the stairs. "Hurry and get whatever you need."

"Why?" she asked as she started up the stairs, pausing to look back at him.

"We're going to have to hide the work. Hill ruined Gruber, but I won't let him do the same to us." He started for the basement where he left the work when she called him back. He groaned to himself; the longer this was delayed, the chances of Hill coming soon even greater.

"You never told me what Gruber said exactly to you. When he died in front of you."

Herbert did not mistake the sympathy and curiosity together. He turned back to her and looked at her directly in the face, his heart swelling as he let out the words his beloved mentor said what felt like so long ago. "He held my hand as he made me promise him to finish what we started...what we did together, that Hill would not take from us as he took from Gruber. He made me swear that I would make sure Hill paid for his sins, and I refuse to fail in my mission."

He saw yet another tear fall; he thought about wondering why she was crying because he finally told her what his teacher made him vow – before he remembered that it was because she was feeling exactly what he was. He gave her a little full smile of gratitude for understanding before he made way for the basement to retrieve his bag. He'd left it behind because he'd have assumed prior that Hill would return with Meg, but it seemed he was wrong.

And that was the next – and most – biggest mistake he'd ever made in his life.

"Good afternoon, Mr. West."

How the hell did Hill get in here? Herbert whirled around and stood in front of his bag full of his prized possessions for protection as the man he hated more than anyone and anything in the world stepped out from underneath the stairs. The back door, he realized with shock. He distinctively remembered keeping it locked – unless Hill used a lock pick, making this easier to break in without Meg finding out. "It's still morning," Herbert said icily. "Now, what do you want?" Oh, he already knew, but he was prepared to defend himself, the work, _and_ Meg.

"Oh, West, that's not a nice way to greet a visitor," Hill patronized, making him angrier.

"You come here uninvited," Herbert hissed.

The other man chuckled and shook his head. "Very well, because I want to settle this between us both, man to man, without distressing Meg...for now." He did not like the way he said the last two words. "I have a few questions about Halsey's condition."

Damn it all. Quick. "I don't have to talk to you," Herbert said softly, lethal as he could be close to a bullet shot ready to fire, "because I told everything I know to the police."

"Oh, I don't believe you did, because they would want to know why Halsey's heart fibrillates, as I do, and among other things," Hill went on, taking another step forward. "Like his erratic pulse and his cries of pain." He walked with each word matching each step until Herbert met him eye-to-eye, their bodies nearly making contact – and he could feel himself shrinking. He wasn't sure how much longer he could keep his guard up.

"When we both know he is...quite... _dead_."

Oh, that was the last straw. But what could Herbert do right now? He was nowhere near a weapon of choice, and he couldn't risk killing Hill in broad daylight so he and Meg would be discovered. Hill smirked, seeing that he'd caught him off as he wanted, then stalled the moment by taking the time to look around. "Hmm...interesting little laboratory you have here." Then his attention landed on the microscope still on the table. "Ah, Mr. West, I recognize this." Herbert rolled his eyes; a microscope, of course. He hadn't looked through one for years, it seemed. Lazy plagiarist.

"What," he stressed, clenching his jaw, "do. You. Want?"

Hill sighed. "Impatient young man. But yes, we are both scientists. Let us get to the point." To the point now, when he was already wasting enough time as it was? He raised his eyes to meet Herbert's once again; the latter braced himself. Here came his greatest phobia of all time, come alive. "I want your discovery, Mr. West. Whatever it is that you and Megan have been up to, whatever it is which gives the dead the appearance of life."

"Oh, it is NOT the appearance of life," Herbert said defensively. "It _is_ life; this is not magic. And as you say..." He glared when the false scientist broke eye contact and refused to look at him any longer. Yeah, false being the keyword. "... _I_ am a scientist. And a real man Meg deserves than you."

He'd struck a chord, for Hill's attention shifted back to him, vengeance burning in his eyes. Now Herbert knew he was in trouble and was paying for it. But he was willing to do anything for both her and their work. "Meg deserves someone older and much wiser to keep her in check. Someone who wouldn't twist her mind as you have. And for that, I'll have _you_ locked up for a madman...or a murderer," he finished with a malicious wink.

Herbert felt his heart stop only to pick up at a rapid pace. "Oh, yes," Hill said, seeing right through him. "I read all about what happened in Zurich. Poor Gruber...or not. And you, his best student, found over his twitching body, but they weren't able to piece it together what you really did to him – or TRIED to do. But now that I see it all, I have more ground to cover. You can be sure that neither you or my wife will get away from me that easily."

"She's not your wife," Herbert seethed, suddenly getting the idea that it wasn't JUST the work he wanted.

He wanted _Meg._

He knew it all along. He knew Carl Hill wouldn't let her go that easily.

Hill's hand was latched around his collar, taking in a fistful as well as his tie with it, and Herbert felt like he was in a suffocating hold even as his professor forced him to look at him in the eyes, burning his flesh and blood all the way to the bone. Herbert struggled to get away but couldn't. "Not yet, but she _will_ be," Hill snarled, his breath foul. "I have arranged for the wedding to continue. The date is scheduled for the twenty-fifth of October."

One month from now! Herbert bared his teeth in a snarl. "I won't let you get away with this. She's not your trophy you can win for yourself, and neither is she some toy you can play with. As a matter of fact, you disappoint me." He dropped his voice to a sly vibrancy. "You want the secret of life and death, but all you're concerned with is the daughter of your oldest friend. You're much lower than I thought." His running tongue earned his collar and tie let go only to have a hand on his back which forced him downwards, slamming his chest on the table and knocking the air out of his lungs.

"Herbert?" Damn it, Megan! His heart thudded harder and faster now, and behind him, Hill stiffened and looked up at the stairs. Meg didn't open the door all the way and stick her head inside to see what was going on. "Are you coming?" she called down.

His words were strangled. "Yes, I'll be there soon!"

There was the sound of the door being closer. He breathed a little sigh but not of relief – well, actually relief that Meg was safe for now – because Hill returned back to him. "Well, she'll be expecting you soon, but she'll have to wait and come for herself once she gets tired of waiting...and sees what you will get right now." Herbert gasped softly in horror when he felt him pull away from him, and there was the sound of his belt coming undone and his zipper pulled down.

"N-no...!" His cry of protest was silenced by a hand slapped over his mouth. Then he was pushed forward again for the sake of it, his face popping against the hard surface of the table to keep him quiet. That hand removed itself from his mouth and to his right shoulder, pulling him back and holding him in place while its companion was working on his belt. "Stop," he ground out, wriggling his hips with futile attempts to get away. "I won't let you do this to me."

His pants and briefs were yanked down, and the air struck at the bared flesh of his buttocks. Herbert had never been more humiliated in his life. He could hear the voice whispering in his mind that he was never going to live this out, and worst of all, Meg...

The pain that came with the penetration almost made him howl with pierced agony that Herbert gritted his teeth and lowered his head to the table, still standing straight and his palms flat against the table, wanting to dig his fingernails into the surface and scratch them till they were raw and bleeding. Bleeding like his insides were with each repeating slam into his body. If his logic was lit up, he would have asked why Hill was doing this to him, because if he was interested in Meg and not – deep down, it was because Hill was making sure this was the ultimate act he would separate Herbert from the woman he loved, whom his enemy believed truly belonged to _him_. Herbert felt hot, sticky blood streak down his inner thighs, coming in faster streams soon enough. He tried to relax so the pain would lessen, but it didn't ease his heartache. He wanted so much to cry but couldn't; he prayed to a God he knew didn't exist that Meg would forgive him for this...

"No, HERBERT!" Dear God, no... "Carl, let him go!" Meg started down the stairs and began to slap at Hill, from his back to his arms and finally his head, but it made him angrier; when she tried to pull him away from Herbert, she was struck across the face and sent down to her knees. Herbert yelped when the horrible member tore another part of him as Hill reached down and grabbed Meg by the hair like her father had after his re-animation, holding her in place so she could watch as he raped Herbert from behind. "Carl, please, stop it," she begged, trying to get away and shrieking when his hold on her soft hair tightened in place. She began to cry now, knowing they were both trapped and that she couldn't save him from this assault. "God, please, let him go..."

Hill grunted with another thrust. "Don't cry, Meg. I'm doing this for the both of us. I know everything about your father, but you already figured it out now, haven't you?" Another hit, and this was worse than before. Herbert knew this would remain with him for as long as he lived, haunt him in his sleep and waking hours, perhaps all hours of the day. "I won't let you get away from me that easily, my dear. I wish to proceed with the wedding plans, and in one month, everything you have will be mine."

Herbert was released with the final thrust, and the stain of shame emptied itself into him, marking him forever. He stood there stone-still, unable to move or utter a sound. Hill was fixing himself back casually and letting Meg go; she whimpered as she collapsed to the floor, crawling away from him and grabbing onto the table to lift herself up. But Herbert barely acknowledged her. He felt hollow...lost...filthy... _used_.

~o~

Meg gasped at the sight of the state her Herbert was in, half-naked with his pants down at his knees, the blood trailing from his rear crevice and down his pale thighs...oh, God no. she felt like sobbing right now. Her lover had been brutally raped by the man who had examined her father and whom they tried to protect themselves and the research from.

And the look on Herbert's face...he was so unfocused, lost in the recesses of his faltering sanity, slowly turning into a broken shell of who he was. She wept inside now since she forced herself to be strong for him. Her cheek still stung from the slap – this was the first time she'd EVER been hit – but she went behind Herbert and helped him get his pants back into place. He barely reacted when she did, but as soon as she finished securing them, he jerked away from her and whirled around, hissing angrily at Hill like a venomous snake ready to inject its poison into the victim's veins. Which she was ready to do, after being forced to watch the man she loved violated. "What do you want from us now, Hill?" she raged, standing in front of Herbert now, taking the black medical bag into hand. "You are NOT taking our life's work from us. Taking credit for research that isn't yours so you can gain fame and leave the real maker to die in misery, after a life wasted for nothing? Like you did to Dr. Gruber?"

Hill laughed cruelly and reached over to snatch the bag from her; his will was so powerful she didn't stand a chance against him. "I see he's gotten to you. Corrupted you. Well, that makes things even easier. Meg, West, now that the score is settled, a month from now, the wedding will proceed as planned, and that means you'll be mine at last. And this also means I will be famous and given the Nobel Prize. Which means, until then, I offer the both of you to be my assistants in this. That is, after the wedding comes and goes."

Meg furiously took Herbert's hand into hers, shaking her head angrily. "We won't go along with this." She would _not_ marry this vile creature; she belonged to Herbert and Herbert only, and he couldn't stop her.

Hill shook his head, sighing again. "A pity. I wanted to spare the trouble of what happened, but you have left me no choice. I have your file, West, which means I will go to the police and have you confined for the rest of your life. And Halsey will join you so he can have his fun with you, perhaps even kill you while he has the chance. But I think to have that happen would ruin all the fun." He turned and began to walk back under the stairs – where the back door was. "You wouldn't think about going to the police, lest you want to ruin your one opportunity to save yourselves and your...loved ones."

Crawford and Katherine...Meg's heart thumped with fear for her sister and future brother-in-law, but what would they do now, since Hill had the work against them for blackmail?

Wait, she just remembered...he didn't have the re-agent Herbert still had upstairs, as well as some spare notes. It wasn't much, but they were sort of back to square one now that their adversary had them blocked. And now that Hill was gone, Herbert melted down in defeated agony, sobbing his pain in Meg's arms. They sank to the floor together, weeping with broken hearts just as Mother Nature began to shed her tears outside the windows of the Halsey home.

 **It broke my heart doing this to Herbert. :( Though it makes it that much deeper, blackmailed by Hill, inspired by ridley160's "Untold events in the basement". And for Meg being forced to watch it all was even worse for both her and the man she loves. So where does this leave them both now that Hill has what he took of their hard work?**


	22. The Change

Chapter Twenty-One

The Change

Where was his life going now, now that it was ruined for sure this time? He was supposed to be strong, supposed to overcome all obstacles. But no. Not this time.

Herbert had been crying in her arms the whole time since Dr. Hill departed with what he took in the bag – "He doesn't have what we still have upstairs," Meg spoke softly, unsure of what to say in the midst of their shared weeping. Herbert hadn't cried since he was a child, when his own mother punished him and told him he had always been a mistake to her and his father as soon as he was born. He had been called a monster and an abomination by Dr. Giger and the others at the institute, Dean Halsey kicked him and the woman he loved who happened to be his daughter...and now Hill. He'd come into their home, having proof that the dean was living death as well as Herbert's record across the ocean – now he'd not only taken enough of his life's work that Meg shared with him now, but he also defiled Herbert right in front of her, humiliated him and took control.

But now that he remembered there was still what he had upstairs, as Meg informed him just now. All hope was not lost, but the fight was far from over.

"Come upstairs," Meg said, helping him stand, but the moment her hands touched his arms, Herbert pulled away. He didn't need her help right now. "Herbert, don't fight me. Don't push me away; we're in this together."

"I know," he answered quietly. "But I need a moment alone." He refused to tell her, but he wanted to take his rage out on the room right now. She said nothing, just leaned up and kissed his cheek as a sign of reassurance, but he wasn't sure if he needed it right now. As soon as she was up the stairs and the door closed, Herbert let all his inner feelings explode with the fury of Mother Nature and slammed his fist onto the lab table so his knuckles were bleeding as he still was inside.

~o~

She could hear Herbert slamming his hand on the table, and it worried her. What Hill did to him had done a very horrible number on him, and for that, Meg screamed on the inside as she knew Herbert was doing now as he was outside. She'd seen what happened, and it sickened her, but she wasn't sick of Herbert just because of that. He needed her more than ever as she needed him, and now they both needed two others they cared most about. Meg wasted no time in dashing over to the phone and dialing.

 _"Tillinghast."_

"Oh, Crawford!" she blurted out. "It's Hill!" She paused to let him speak before she could continue.

 _"Hill!"_ he shouted. _"What happened? And where's Herbert? Meg, tell me everything."_

She knew she was crying and couldn't stop it no matter how hard she wanted to; she also couldn't tell him how his cousin was taken in front of her very eyes, for it would ruin Herbert more than it had done to her. "He forced me to sign the papers so he could do exploratory surgery on my father," she croaked, throat painfully tight. "He knows the truth, and he blackmailed Herbert and me, even took some of our work." And raped Herbert, her mind added. Violated his sanity and his pride; who knew how long this would last or if he would even retain what was last of himself so they could fight their enemy. "And the wedding is still on. It will be on the twenty-fifth."

There was a long, dramatic pause on the other line, before – _"T-twenty-fifth?! That's in a month! What are we going to do now?"_ He was in panic mode now, more like him now. But his freaking out wasn't helping anything.

"Crawford, he has the work, and he is ruining everything. Things are getting worse than ever now. I should have known he would do this, like he did to Dr. Gruber. I'm really feeling the pain Herbert is right now; I know it very much. I feel like I'm screaming, and no one is listening. Because no one will ever understand us because they are afraid of it. This world will always accept men like Carl Hill, and they're scared, ignorant animals who let men like him get away with it as simple as that. I see it all now." By the time she was finished, she looked over her shoulder when she heard the sound of the basement door open. Herbert was coming out with his face tight and angry – and his right hand bleeding on top. "God, Herbert!" she cried. She ran over to him after setting the phone down. "Herbert, you didn't have to do this. Why would you do something so stupid?!"

He looked at her calmly when she took his hand into both of hers to examine the slightly raw damage. "Release of tension."

"Your cousin is on the phone, and you do this to yourself!" Meg scolded, going back over to the phone, where Crawford was surely listening. "Crawford, we'll have to call you back," she said, picking it up again. "But please tell Katherine for me." He affirmed and let her disconnect the line first. "Come on, let's get this cleaned up," she said to Herbert, leading him into the kitchen to turn the sink water to cold, bringing his hand underneath and ordering him to leave it there until enough blood was washed away. Then she retreated to the washroom and came back a short time later with the First Aid kit. Alright, a man would lose his temper easily, but this was just plain ridiculous. But she would say nothing to him because it would only upset him more.

"Go ahead," he said finally, drawing her attention back up to him.

"And do what?"

"Say I'm immature."

Meg snorted. "Hardly. I wanted to do it myself, but I'm not made for physical activity."

He pulled his hand away as soon as she was done with wrapping the bandages and gauze around his hand. "I wished the table was him. But you don't blame me." He didn't ask it as a question, but the answer was no. He started to walk away from her. "I have to get started again. We have no time to waste. He won't win this fight, I promise. It's not over until we say it's over."

Meg said nothing as she watched him go out through the kitchen doorway and for the stairs, to get what he had in his room of the re-agent. She wasn't sure what to make of this; he'd been depredated just several moments ago, and already he wanted to go back to work. Perhaps it was his way to try and pretend the whole thing never happened and focus on the real matter at hand. He disregarded her altogether, and it worried her. Meg didn't want him to distance himself from her; they were a team. She loved him with every fiber of her being, but now...was it really enough?

She decided to wait and see how their relationship would go now, outside the workforce.

~o~

Fifteen days. He had worked tirelessly for fifteen days since then, ignoring everyone as best he could, even refusing any food. He was oblivious to his body's growing nutrients slowly subsiding and becoming a nearly malnourished creature. All he could ever think about was the fact that Hill had leverage on him and Meg, so there was no need for rest for anything, except for a shower because he felt hygiene was important. But so far, no human subjects because Hill was on them. Herbert feared that the slightest mishap would lead to the walls and ceiling coming tumbling atop of them.

Crawford had grown increasingly worried about him, tried to get him to come out to dinner or at least help with the wedding plans – he and Katherine were getting married Saturday, and oh, how time flew by – but while Herbert tried to be as interested as possible, he ended up getting distracted and his mind wandered back to the work. Everything to even take his mind off his rape. It was over, the physical pain gone, but the emotional scars remained. He tried to remain firm and strong, but even that wasn't enough. He was well aware that Meg was trying to love him and be there for him, but it wasn't enough. "Sometimes simple love isn't enough," they said, whoever it was.

~o~

"Meg, I can't take anymore," Crawford told her last Friday. "My cousin is distancing himself all this time, not all that interested in the wedding coming up, and I want an explanation from him, but I want it soon. I know something more than blackmail happened even though I'm not a psychiatrist." He'd been interrupted by Katherine then.

"That's my job to figure it out," she'd said, scowling before turning her attention to Meg. "He can tell us when he's ready." No surprise that she would suspect eventually, or did she really? Meg wasn't questioning her sister's expertise, knowing her understanding, but Crawford – Herbert would tell him when he was ready, but Crawford was so persistent, which distanced Herbert from his cousin even more than he did all three of them. But tonight was the night. Meg had to see if she could get through to Herbert, help him get an ounce of his dignity back.

However THAT would be.

Rape victims abstained from sexual activity for a long time, and she assumed her Herbert wouldn't want to be with her that way, and it broke her heart. She felt like she was with a stranger now, like he stayed with her for both their sakes and not because he felt like he wanted to of his own free will. The fire they shared...it felt like it was burning out, so everything was so different now. She'd cried with him every time they finished working on what they had left of the re-agent, building up more of what was taken.

Hill hadn't bothered them anymore for awhile; maybe he was laying low until after the wedding day, which was highly unusual for him. Herbert had made the theory himself. And it had been awhile since they last saw her father, too, who was still confined to the padded cell in Dr. Hill's office. Now Meg began to believe that Carl did more than just examine him, but dare she risk breaking into his office to see for herself?

Herbert hadn't bothered closing the bathroom door, so she heard the shower running as she readied fo bed. She'd bathed earlier, but that wasn't why she was entering. Wearing a long white nightgown, Meg tiptoed inside and glimpsed Herbert's nude silhouette through the sheer curtain. His back faced her, and he had not moved a single inch since he'd been in there, which had been quite awhile that Meg felt a tremor as she took a few more soft steps forward and slowly drew back the curtain and slipped inside. Everything about Herbert shocked her now; she could clearly see his spine sharply defined through his back, his waist bearing jutting hipbones, but the water running down that back and dripping off his perfect butt distracted her for the moment. She flushed; she didn't feel it was right, being in here like this, but it was too late to turn back. She needed to show Herbert that their love shouldn't be the way it was lately. Taking a few steps forward while trying not to startle him for now, Meg reached out with a shaky hand and tenderly placed it on the back of his left shoulder blade, feeling cooling water and the tremors. He had thought a cold shower would cleanse the pain away when it only worsened it.

It also made him retaliate and spin around, catching her hand and pinning her against the wall. The impact wasn't hard, but Meg was stunned when she found herself staring into his savage green eyes, burning with fury at his privacy invaded. She gulped and shrunk underneath the intensity.

"D-don't you _ever_..." His voice failed him, and his features softened when he noticed how he was scaring her. "Meg, I'm sorry," he whispered finally, lowering his eyes and taking in her long white gown, the curve of her left breast visible above the neckline which had somehow lowered in the midst of the retaliation. Meg reached up with her free hand and placed in on his cheek.

"Stop avoiding me," she whispered. "Herbert, please. I love you so much. Will you at least come back to me?"

The sadness in his eyes told her everything.


	23. Even in Death

Chapter Twenty-Two

Even in Death

Her heart was pounding when she searched his eyes, seeing the pain, loss, anger and determination. Herbert was, at the moment, a lost little boy who needed a woman's heart to guide him. Here they were, in the shower together, and she was in a nightgown getting slightly soaked from the spraying cold water while he was completely naked and vulnerable, doing his best to obtain his self-respect. Herbert finally looked down, but no eye contact never helped anyone. Meg shook her head, keeping her hand on his cheek and bringing his face back to hers.

"Don't," was all his said, in a dull, hollow voice. Devoid of the passion they shared.

"I won't let this go on any longer," she told him softly but firmly. "I want to help you, Herbert. You shouldn't avoid me just because of what happened. We're supposed to be together, remember?" She looked down when she saw that her leg was bending of its own volition, coming to hook around his waist. Herbert stiffened and looked down briefly before back to her. He gave her the look that told her this wasn't necessary, but she couldn't help it. "Herbert, I want to make you forget what happened even if it takes every breath in my body. It won't be easy, but I'm willing to chance it."

He shook his head. "You don't know what you're asking me now."

She let her leg drop back into place and wrapped both arms around his neck, bringing him down to kiss her. The burning tingles returned, having not changed or diminished in the last two weeks of limited to no intimacy. Her body's core ignited hot and bright despite the arctic waters engulfing them both. She needed to get them both into hotter waters before they froze to death. Breaking off the kiss and risking her nightgown, Meg turned the dial to hot. "Then let me show you what I'm asking." She took the bold risk of slipping out of her nightgown and tossing it out of the curtain, turning back to him. "Don't you miss me at all?"

He looked shocked that she even asked him. "Of course I missed you," he answered, "but Hill..."

"Forget him," she snapped, stepping forward. "He hasn't done anything better with our work just yet, because we know it better than he does. But we haven't made improvements yet because the two of us together are, like...drifting apart more and more. I don't want us to be separated by force, Herbert West, not even by Carl Hill. At least show me that you don't want that to happen. I want to end this tonight, once and for all."

His face hadn't changed much, but his throat bobbed with each swallow he took. And then he surprised her by nodding slowly and leaning down to kiss her again, risking more of his body and mind's sanities by agreeing to come back to bed with her for the first time in eternity...even putting their passionate love on the line because of the man who was so close to taking her away from him.

But tonight, none of that would matter.

~o~

Katherine was at work when she got the call on Tuesday. She owned a private practice now, given she didn't lock away the crazies, so they came in and walked freely while under supervision. The institution would bring in suitable candidates fit for her "experiments" every now and then. Miss Bateman had made a full recovery, but her parents were sending her away to boarding school, which was beyond her own control as much as it broke Katherine's heart. She wanted to have children someday, but she couldn't imagine what she had just witnessed of Tiffany and her parents. Tiffany was an amazing girl, so full of love and life, so why did she deserve the troubles she explained about her boyfriend and with her parents?

What made the day worse was the call she received just before she hit her lunch break.

 _"Dr. McMichaels, this is Dr. Connors."_

"What can I do for you?" she'd answered, wondering if her mother was really going to die...and then it was horribly confirmed and shattered at the same time when Erin's general physician answered her, and it was much worse than the confirmation of cancer.

 _"Well, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but your mother...passed away some time during the night. We examined the body, and it was a heart attack."_ He paused and sighed; she could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. _"Katherine, I'm really sorry."_

She nodded, though the flood had already been released that she couldn't speak properly. "I know you...did the best you could," she managed. "When will she be released to me?" She knew that, with the issues going on with Hill – the wedding was back on, and her hatred and fury for the man was stronger than ever, but she and Crawford needed to come up with a plan to save Meg and Herbert, still – and Halsey still in his office, Herbert wouldn't be able to sneak Erin McMichaels' corpse away without getting caught by the parasite, and her mother was nowhere near the fresh state required. Katherine felt herself crumble with despair. A few times lately, she'd brought Meg to get to know her mother and bond with her. But now Erin was gone. She had to call Meg soon, but right now she had the feeling that her twin was working in the ER at the present. She could always ask Dr. Harrod to deliver the message. And after doing so, she no longer felt hungry and instead collapsed onto her office desk, crying like she never did in her life.

~o~

Just great. More tragedy just before the wedding, which was two days from now. It had been two since he, his bride-to-be and sister-in-law, as well as Herbert, found out about Erin McMichaels passing away. He felt like a hole had been drilled into his heart when his should-have-been mother-in-law died of a heart attack during the night. She had been the mother he'd lost, besides Aunt Isabel who had raised him. Crawford had lost loved ones in his life along with the love of his life and her sister, and his dear cousin he loved despite whatever differences. When Katherine came home the day of getting the call from Dr. Connors, she'd been red-eyed and puffy-faced from crying all day. Even her latest patients after that comforted her despite it being unprofessional, but she needed it. And now she needed more love from Crawford more than ever, which he had been happy to give. To lose someone you loved just days before the wedding...

The funeral was today, two days later, the arrangements made thanks to Dr. Harold Connors, and unbelievably enough from Dr. Hill who had somehow learned of the death of Meg's real mother. He had the goddamn nerve to interfere with this time of bereavement! Not only that, but he gave Meg the horrible engagement ring back, that black pearl ringed with tanzanite. Crawford looked it on, along with Katherine and Herbert, with disgust that the lock to her jail cell was back in place. He held Katherine by his side the whole time the services took place in the Christchurch chapel; Herbert was there despite having no beliefs in God, but he was there because this was the mother of his soon-to-be cousin-in-law and her sister, the woman he loved. And Meg was clinging to him nonstop, refusing to let him go despite the fact that Hill, her once more unwilling fiancée, was near them, his face tight the whole time and not taking his eyes off the casket all eyes were on, which was sprayed with peach, pink and coral-colored roses; it was a perfect final farewell to Erin, who should have lived longer and made it to her daughter's big day in two more days. It would be a matter of time before it was placed in the fire for a pretty china urn instead of buried underneath brown earth. He looked down when his bride began to sob again. He shushed her gently and rocked her back and forth.

"She wanted you happy, and we will miss her," he assured her. "She loved all of us and wouldn't want us stopping because she's gone now."

~o~

October eighteenth. The day had come. It was sure to be a day to remember, but for two young women – twin sisters – who recently lost the mother one never knew all her life, it was missing a piece of the past with the tragedy days before. The sisters had lost one link they shared, but just because one was broken did not mean the chain could not be fixed back together. It didn't mean it couldn't function on its own with just one break. There was always plenty of use.

Meg was one of the bridesmaids, wearing a short, burnt orange dress with a subtle draping V-neck and a sash waistline. She had never worn orange in her life that she could remember, nor did she think it would look good on her. She smiled at herself, feeling on fire, because today was a special day that couldn't be put off just because a loved one was lost. To some, it would have been selfish because they would wonder how you could go on with one person missing. But to others, it showed you were stronger than anyone else thought. Erin might be gone, and the wounds far from healed, but she would be watching down from heaven and smiling upon her daughters on this glorious day.

Meg felt like crying when she and the other girls in orange beheld the bride before them. Katherine was the pure image of stunning and classical; the silk dress fitted her body and flared out in a mermaid train with a daring slit to one side, the shoulder straps shoved down to bare her shoulders, and minor embellishments on the straps. Her hair was a unique curling updo accented with a birdcage veil and vintage flowers. Her jewelry was also kept to a minimum with her favorite earrings and the diamond necklace from Crawford. The whole beauty of her lay overall in the simplicity and elegance.

"You look beautiful," Meg whispered, going up to her sister and hugging her, careful not to mess up the netted veil over her face. Katherine's glasses were replaced for the day with eye contacts she rarely wore unless for a special occasion. She was fighting not to cry, out of both joy and sadness.

"I thought today that when I got married, Mom would be here."

"Hush," Meg said gently, handing her bouquet of vivid shades of orange and red accented with black fern. "Mom would have been happy, remember? Let's get through today for you, with her watching over. Even in death, her love for us...keeps us stronger than ever," she whispered, the heartrenching words making her feel moreso. Her sister nodded, trying her hardest not to cry with her, and left the room with her for the outdoors.

The ceremony took place at an abandoned barn outside Arkham, which was perfect. The arch at the space was made of birch and willow set with hydrangeas and bittersweet berries in autumn tones. The chairs on either side of the aisle were lined with pumpkins carved out and filled with assorted flowers also in the colors of the season. Unlike the other bridesmaids walking alone down the aisle, Meg waited until they were all gone to guarantee her sister made it down there to her groom waiting for her, with Herbert as his best man. The soft music in the air was like steady dewdrops dripping into a pond instead of the traditional "Here Comes to Bride"; however, Meg wouldn't be given that option next week. She was glad Hill wasn't there to make her sister and brother-in-law's big day a mess, too. And as soon as they reached the aisle, Meg hugged her sister and kissed both cheeks before taking her place with the other bridesmaids so the ceremony could begin.

She watched the ceremony with rapt ears and eyes, sometimes looking over to Herbert, seeing him not even close to stoic, just smiling...really smiling, for his cousin. It was the same ever true beam he would give her and her only. He was truly happy for Crawford. It was a rarity for anyone else to see Herbert West so happy; Meg Halsey was one of the few to witness it. He looked in her direction briefly and twitched his mouth at one corner when she blew him a kiss with her lips out of habit and then turned his attention back when the vows were exchanged. Among them shared was the sweetest, most sentimental promise she had ever heard, between the two of them: "No bonds can hold me away from you, and rest assured, I'll never leave you as long as we both shall live. No one will love you any more than I do."

She felt like another piece of her heart had been torn. It made her think of herself and a certain young scientist across the altar from her. Her sister and his cousin marrying, bound for an eternity some said did not exist...no, whoever said it was wrong. Eternity existed, but it was a rare jewel to find in this world. And speaking of jewels, her three-stone ring was joined with a plain silver band. Crawford's was a thick, gleaming silver band set with a jet black gemstone. "Then by the power vested in me," the minister spoke, "I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride."

In spite of herself when said kiss happened, Meg let loose the tears when her sister finally got the happiness she deserved. When the groom swept his bride up into his arms and carried her down, a blend of flower petals and autumn leaves were thrown in the air and littering the altar. When everyone was rising from their seats, Meg went over to Herbert and wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. "I'm so happy for them," she said when they broke apart.

He looked so handsome in his suit, though this time with a black bowtie which she thought cute. He chuckled and nodded. "So am I. I don't normally enjoy these events, but this is for Crawford."

"Certainly not for us, boy. The last face I wanted to see today."

Meg looked behind her and saw a face she didn't recognize but one that Herbert was not at all happy to see. He nodded curtly to the woman with her long blonde hair in a tight, curling bun, her blue eyes lighter and colder than Meg's. She was dressed in a long white dress blending with lace and sparkles, which seemed like an insult to Katherine's once-in-a-lifetime spotlight. She looked back to Herbert when he coldly answered the mysterious woman.

"Indeed, as is yours... _Mother_."

 **My grandfather passed away from a heart attack in his sleep back in 2002, so his death was inspiration for the loss of Meg and Katherine's mother. :(**

 **And uh oh, Herbert's unpleasant encounter with his hated/hateful mother. How will this play out now?**


	24. Thoughtless

Chapter Twenty-Three

Thoughtless

All of his hatred for the woman who conceived him came flooded back the moment his eyes laid on her for the first time in years since leaving Arkham for Europe. He wasn't afraid of her any longer than he had been as a young boy, his loathing of her stronger than ever, if not as immense as it was for Carl Hill. Isabel West had what would be called a splendid model's body, toned legs seen slightly through the lacy right side of the dress, her light golden hair out of the way to show splashes of exotic rubies in her ears like trailing vines, her lips painted nearly the same shade of red she'd always worn his entire life and twisted into an amused smile as she beheld the sight of her unwanted son with the beautiful woman in his arms, the same bridesmaid who had walked her new niece-in-law down the aisle. An honor she thought she deserved herself after everything they did together. She was such a narcissist, even more than Herbert himself was.

Isabel took a few steps forward, circling the couple with the same twisted smile. "Well, don't mind me then," she said, pretending she didn't hear Herbert speak. "I simply wanted to know who was my replacement for doing the honor of bringing Kathy down when it should have been me." Her voice, low and velvety rich but unpleasant to the senses. A voice that did its magic with lowering your defenses so she could strike like the world's deadliest catch, but Herbert wouldn't let her tear Meg down. Or him, again. "My," she said sweetly, stopping behind Meg and briefly running her right fingers through her hair, making her flinch and him fume. "You're quite the pretty thing. I'm surprised my son finally got lucky." However, when she looked at him, her eyes said that she was far from pleased.

She was jealous of him, thought she could break him all those years ago. Wanted nothing more than to see him down to the ground like he had been when he still lived in her house.

"I certainly did," Herbert said, taking Meg's hand into his and drawing her away from Isabel. "Now, Mother, we can finish later, because we have a celebration to attend to for Crawford and Katherine. You wouldn't want to miss that now, would you?" He allowed a smile of his own to show, making her shake slightly that he dared to talk back to her. He could tell Meg wanted to say something, but she didn't know his mother like he did.

"Very well," Isabel said coolly. "I do hope I don't get to run into you again, Herbert. However..." Her eyes traveled to Meg for another brief moment. "...I hope I get to know you more, Miss...?"

"Halsey," Meg answered softly, her expression now hard. "Meg."

"Meg." The way Isabel spoke her name was like a sour and sweet taste on her tongue. She didn't like her already. "Pretty name." Two simple words that didn't really mean what they were meant to. Herbert decided enough was enough and led Meg away from her and for the rest of the wedding party, where the reception was held inside the barn underneath an open space of beams and sunlight from the only overhead window. The centerpieces of the tables had clear cylindrical vases filled with water so the candles floated atop; the flowers' colors were fading, drawing inspiration from nature. He and Meg sat together closer to the space of the dancefloor, which was an immense square of woven wood, but the décor did not distract Herbert from the unfortunate encounter with one of the women of his nightmares.

"So, that was your mother," Meg stated as they waited for the party to begin. Something Herbert wasn't fond of, but he did it because he was celebrating his cousin's big day. "She's...beautiful, I think." She meant it exactly but wasn't sure if such a word applied for a clearly troublesome woman like Isabel.

Herbert chuckled and shook his head. "She is. Though, Meg..." He looked up at her, making direct eye contact as he finally told her what held him back the first time they met. "...the first time I walked through the door we now share, at first you reminded me of her. I don't know how to explain, but she was the reason I hated women before you."

He had anticipated her reaction, of course. "I see," she said, as if unsure of how to say how she really felt without blowing up. "I don't know how to feel about that."

Herbert shook his head and looked away. "I don't expect you to feel anything, but it was only a first impression, I assure you. It's completely different now." He looked back at her and smiled the same time she did. She then placed her hand over his.

"Why do you and her not get along?" she asked gently.

He sighed again. Talking about his childhood was still a touchy subject he would rather leave behind forever closed and locked doors, but now that she asked, he had no choice but to unlock and show the skeletons in his closet. "I was born unplanned. She and Father were married because of my birth, so you could say I was the cause of everything. But it wasn't until Crawford came to live with us after his parents died that things got better for them, but not for me, other than the fact that Crawford was the only one there for me. However, Mother and Father always disapproved of our relationship, and it hasn't changed once today." He looked up with her when the bride and groom were announced and made their grand entrance, and the guests roared with applause, and quieted them down so they would have their first official dance as husband and wife.

"That's what Carl and I will end up doing," Meg whispered to him, the sadness in her voice evident. "Nothing at all what I imagined as a little girl. When you're young, you dream of your wedding day, of who you'll spend the rest of your life with. But I don't think I'll ever get that. It's a silly girl's fantasy."

"Hmm." Herbert never thought of marriage, yet he got curious now that he'd seen his cousin tie the knot today, and it was with a woman who made him feel the same way Meg made him feel. But there would be no way he would move for marriage when there was still so much work to be done. And now that Meg was getting married to the man they both hated with a passion next week, he doubted that "dream" would ever be realized for himself. He turned to face her, shifting his body around. "Meg, I find marriage an interesting topic, but I doubt it should be rushed into."

The music stopped playing, and then some louder music, country-themed, began to signal that everyone should get up and join the couple. Herbert didn't dance, but Meg insisted, squealing and jumping up, taking his hand into hers and dragging him out with everyone else. "Come on, have some fun!" she shouted over the tunes. He couldn't help but laugh, the music coursing through his system like his re-agent reviving his own dying cells. He had no choice but to succumb to the temptation that was "fun".

~o~

The wedding party was so much more fun than she thought, and for the time being, all the troubles were forgotten just for today, but after they left, it was back to business. Right now, the bride and groom were cutting the cake, which was the the classical three-tiered white embellished with real flowers and silk butterflies in the fall colors, as was everything else. Seeing her sister happier than she'd ever seen her made Meg happy, too, but next Saturday wouldn't be for her.

However, hope glimmered in her that Herbert might find a way to stop Hill from taking her away permanently. The question was _how_ , without getting them behind bars for the rest of their lives.

By the time it was reaching eleven, Meg joined Herbert and the other guests for the bride and groom to leave in their rented convertible, a once-in-a-lifetime for them. The leaves were thrown after them, littering them and making them laugh along with everyone else. Crawford took the driver's seat after helping his new bride into the front passenger, and sped away from the site. Meg wondered if she might get that chance next week only for the sake of it. But before she could dwell on this further, a familiar voice she never wanted to hear for the rest of the night spoke behind her.

"I never had the chance to ask...you're Kathy's long-lost twin sister, aren't you?" Meg slowly turned around to face Herbert's mother, that sickly sweet smile that was so fake she wanted to punch it off. "She might have mentioned you, but I'm afraid my memory is short nowadays."

"I don't blame you," Meg said, but oh, she wished she could say she did. "And the answer is yes. Brought up in separate upbringings."

"So I was told. Oh!" She threw her head back and laughed half-heartedly. "How rude, I never introduced myself. Isabel West." She extended her hand, but when Meg took it and shook it, she let her smile slip into a scowl which the older woman soon mirrored on her own face.

"Megan Halsey," she answered. "But as I said before, I prefer Meg." Looking into those cold blue eyes, she wondered what she could do to this woman as much as it risked assault charges, but the fantasy of beating her to the ground made her internally scream with pleasure as Herbert would make her do. "Forgive me," she said instead, "but Herbert and I have to get home." But the woman wasn't willing to let her go anytime soon, for long nails soon dug into the bare skin of her arm enough to make her flinch, and forced her back to face her.

"Not so fast, young lady," Isabel said softly, dangerously as the cold winter winds. "I won't let you leave until you clarify something for me. My son has always been an intolerable one, breaking the rules regarding proximity with Crawford, whom I wished was the true son I had later than I did then. And it's no secret to me that you're Dean Alan Halsey's daughter, who cheated on his wife with the poor woman at the retirement home, what's her name...Erin?" She smiled insolently, offending her mother's memory like that. "It's a pity she couldn't make it today to her own daughter's wedding. But worse that her other daughter took Kathy down the aisle in my place. After everything I did for her." Isabel's lips curled into a snarl when she dug her nails deeper into Meg's arm enough to nearly pierce the skin. She almost yelped but held it together. "My son is a failure enough, but makes it sickening even more that he is digging for higher ground just by sleeping with the dean's daughter."

Meg growled furiously and jerked her arm back, glaring in a match with the older woman. "How dare you insult my father like that? You think all of this is funny? Who do you think you are to come to me at the end of my sister's wedding of all nights, the woman who abandoned her own child and just bled his lover?" She motioned to her now slightly bleeding arm, but Isabel looked at it without a shred of emotion.

"A lover who is engaged to another man...her professor, which is once again no secret." That unbearable smile was back, but a new voice stopped Meg from striking out.

"Enough, Mother. You have done enough to me in my lifetime, and you will not do so again," Herbert snarled bestially and drew Meg away from her, his hand over the bleeding wound. "We are leaving now, but you willl never see or hear from us again. Is that understood?"

Isabel stared at him in shock for a moment before barking out into laughter, getting attention from everyone else. "Boy, you're as feeble today as you were then. Do you honestly think you would ever be free from your own family? You can choose _friends_..." She looked at Meg, and her blood was back to the boiling point. "...but family is forever."

Meg lost her temper and burst forward, striking her palm out, cracking like a whip against Isabel West's face and sending her sprawling onto the ground. Gasps sounded, and the crowd gathered around to help her up and separate Meg and Herbert from her. She covered her now bruising cheek with her hand, glaring at Meg but saying nothing. "Don't you ever, _ever_ say a word to me, Herbert OR the rest of my family again, do you understand me, bitch?" Meg seethed, allowing herself to be led away by Herbert. "If you ever do that again, I'll kill you myself!" she yelled over her shoulder.

"Megan Halsey, what were you thinking?" Herbert asked once they were in her Chevy, though his smile was visible. She shrugged, feeling good and not regretting what she did.

"Bitch had it coming," she answered. "She ruined your life, and I won't ever acknowledge her even if I wanted to. She might not want to see me again after, but I don't care." Damn right, that woman didn't deserve any respect from her. And Herbert laughed in agreement with her, driving them both home for some sleep since tonight wore the energy out of them both.

~o~

He wasn't surprised, yet he couldn't believe Meg had it in her to rise up and strike his mother after the wedding. That was something he never would have done of his own free will; Meg was a fiery vixen now, transformed altogether from demure and humble to bold and unrefined because of him. She'd knocked his mother to the ground, the woman who made his life hell because of his birth. The woman who said he was to blame for everything that went on in her life. The woman who said he should never have existed, while his father stood by and did nothing about it.

And his dearest love stood up to her for him.

But would she really stay that way? The wedding was in four days, and the location was to take place at the hotel in uptown. It was said to be a grand affair, which Herbert was nauseated by and imagined how Megan was. She'd even explained how the party would play out, after the lavish services. All of it would be laid out in never-ending fields of white. Long tables set like a fairytale feast; two different scapes had all-white flowers ranging from hydrangeas to orchids, roses, lilies of the valley and gardenias. The first table would have white topiary vases filled with lush roses, hydrangeas and gardenia blossoms, and the second towering crystal candelabras with hordes of those same flowers added with orchids and pillar candles. The cake would be about seven tiers and covered all over with the same florals. The table settings also included crystal candlesticks, gold-rimmed crystal glasses and accented place cards. Accenting each setting were baby white roses and a white linen napkin embroidered in gold. It was an endless sea of white and gold, too much for Meg. At least, in her mind, it used to be what she imagined as a child, but now she no longer saw it for her. Herbert had no idea what was for her now, but this wasn't it.

Since he'd been violated, Herbert decided to have some more...devious fun with Hill in his classroom without verbally challenging him, like he did with the re-animated rat, and this time it was a weasel, which Hill had called him once before. Only today, the thing leaped up when no one was expecting it and bit him on the backside, bruising his pride as much as the rat on his crotch did. Laughter made Herbert's day, and Meg's too...but then it ended when Hill's furious glare landed on him, knowing now that it was HE who played a part in these violent animals set loose in his classroom to humiliate him. Who else to commit such immature antics against him?

"Megan, leave us be," Hill ordered her. She said nothing, just joined everyone else outside, leaving Herbert alone with the man who thoughtlessly ruined him in front of the woman both their affections were pined for. Now that he mentioned it, Herbert had been planning to give him the treatment Hill gave him, even though it sickened him to even shove himself in when that vital part of his body belonged to Meg. But there were other ways he could rid the world of Hill once and for all. He still had no idea what; his intelligent mind was running out of options. He wasn't a member of the intelligence unit, after all.

"You little fool," Hill growled, leaning in so they were eye-to-eye, smoky gray clouding with rage like storm clouds against blazing green like newly-created emeralds. "You think you can fight against me with petty crimes in my own classroom? I could very much take you to the disciplinary board now, but it would have been even more pleasant if Halsey were here to do so. You've done enough damage long enough, this being the last straw." He nodded for the writhing, snarling animal in another spare cage. Then his attention shifted back to Herbert, and a sinister smile was in place.

"But perhaps we can come to a better arrangement than this. I do need your help on the serum, after all."

~o~

"He wants to get to work on the day of the wedding," Crawford stated disgustedly when he and Katherine came back from their three-day honeymoon at a suite in Boston. It had been the wisest choice for them since traveling for Katherine had worn itself out of her without the possibility of feeling like a young girl again, going out of the country to exotic locations for her job only. Herbert rarely left except once for Switzerland and back, but Meg never left once that Crawford knew of. It made him wonder if his cousin could ever get the chance, just for her, spend every last of his pennies only for her, but Herbert wasn't a romantic in that sense.

"Exactly," Herbert told him. "Said during the gap of the reception party, might as well continue further and leave his young bride to attend the guests herself." He snorted and shook his head. "Seems he considers work better than her. A work he plans to steal like he did Gruber. And I still don't know what to do to him, Crawford. I _have_ to get him out of the picture, eventually."

Crawford looked up at him in shock when Herbert brought out the pizza left over that Meg had ordered for them the previous night when she didn't feel like cooking. He couldn't believe he was actually hearing this; his cousin was actually planning on _KILLING_ Dr. Carl Hill! "No, Herbert, you can't do that."

Herbert glared at him as he sat down with him in front of the coffee table, on the floor in front of the sofa. "He blackmailed us and tried ruining everything Meg and I have done together. He's a parasite that has to be burned from our flesh and blood. You're either with or against me on this," he said acidly. Oh, that wasn't fair. He thought they'd put this behind them, and now he was questioning Crawford's loyalty after all this time!

"I _am_ with you," Crawford argued, "but when you do, how are you going to cover up your tracks without the police finding out about the body and pointing their fingers to you? And _where_ will you hide the body?"

The last thing he wanted to see was Herbert shaking his head. "That I do not know."

Crawford sighed in exasperation and pushed his plate away. "Herbert, unless you plan to do something soon, Hill will get away with everything you spent your life trying to do. Or if you want to go in another direction without resulting in getting caught yourself, such as going into Hill's office to find some sort of proof that he kept hidden from the world, then if the re-agent is there, use that against Hill to label him as the villain so he can get locked up for obstruction and 'illegal experimentation' –" He was cut off when Herbert's face lit up, and then his whole body jerked up from behind the table in a straight-up standing position.

"Oh, Crawford, you're such a genius!" he exclaimed happily. "That's it! That's just _it!_ We'll break into his office and get anything that proves enough to get Hill out of the picture without resorting to actual murder. However, if we don't find the re-agent, then we'll find a way to get to his house and take it from there. He wouldn't be a fool enough to keep it in the autopsy room where someone else has access and likely to find it."

Crawford couldn't believe that he actually agreed with him, but now that left him with the question: "But when and HOW will we get in?"

Herbert dashing over to the coat rack gave him the answer. Alright then, he was in. But he couldn't erase the forebode that overtook him as he got behind the wheel. Katherine had gone with Meg that evening to the diner to have dinner with Aunt Isabel – what the hell had driven his aunt to so much as invite Meg after the way the wedding ended, and had shocked him utterly. Meg striking his aunt and Herbert's mother...Isabel had really done it on her. But he couldn't say he agreed with the action all the way as much as his new wife did.

He sighed blissfully. _Wife_. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. Being married had never felt so good.

They said no more until they got to the college. Few cars filled the lot, so he parked near the front but not in a handicapped area. Crawford was the first out, and Herbert was right beside him. They had to duck around corners and hide in closets – ridiculous and clichéd, but necessary – and finally taking an elevator up to the second level where Dr. Carl Hill's office was located. He almost laughed at the sight of the broken piece of the glass window, which made it easier for him to unlock from the outside. Right now he felt like being the bolder of the two, now that they were here, and opening the door for them both. "Easy to get caught," Herbert told him.

He shook his head and closed the door behind them. The doctor himself was not here; office hours done for him, but who knew where he was now. They couldn't be here forever, just to be safe. Just look fast and be done with it, take what they needed. But the first thing that caught both their eyes was the sight of the figure huddled in the far right corner, bloodied and docile...what had Hill done to Halsey really?

"Well..." Herbert's voice brought him back to attention. "...we can't just stand around staring at him. We have work to do."

They set to it right away. Nothing suspicious in the doctor's desk, none in the filing cabinets next to the door to the cell where the dean was, and finally, Crawford and Herbert were both at the last cabinet together, having reaching the middle drawer. However, after three files to check, there was one in particular that caught their eyes, written with a black sharpie.

"'Meg'," Herbert whispered, then drew back sharply. "What does Meg have to do with this?"

Crawford shook his head. "Well, I don't know. Only one way to find out." He slowly opened the folder and almost dropped it when they saw the newspaper clippings of her homecoming and prom elections, the pictures of her as a child and then eventually a young woman...and some strands of blonde hair tied with a blue string. "Oh, God, Herbert...this is worse than I imagined." He quickly closed it, unable to look anymore. Meg wasn't any more safe than either of them previously thought. And neither was her father on the other side of the window.

 **The details of the wedding reception for Meg and Dr. Hill was inspired by the gorgeous wedding of Ivanka Trump and Jared Kushner. It was a grand affair, indeed. :) Breathtaking and too amazing for words.**


	25. Lose Control

**I felt like Isabel West was an underdeveloped character for some reason, and to simply have her disappear after the wedding didn't feel right. Her complicated relationship with her son seems to run much deeper than him simply being born unplanned.**

Chapter Twenty-Four

Lose Control

Isabel West had the nerve to visit her in the ER and ask for a "dinner date" to attempt to "patch it up". She just about lost control mentally and punched a wall despite being female; that vile, repulsive woman had the guts to come to her workplace and ask to forget about the wrong foot they got off on?! After Meg slapped her and made it clear she would murder her if she ever saw or heard from her again...!

"Please, I deserved it," Isabel had begged, having changed from the snarky person she'd been bold to show Meg on Saturday. "I don't tell anyone this often, but I'm a bitch. At least, that's how people see me even when they don't tell me directly."

Meg had her suspicions. What had just happened? Was it a major epiphany, or was the woman trying to lure her into a false sense of security? She couldn't go alone and asked Katherine to come with her since she knew Herbert's mother better than she did. Her sister could not refuse and complied. However, when they arrived, Isabel West was smiling at the sight of them, but the twins both watched her suspiciously, making her smile fade. "Girls, don't make this harder than it already is," she'd said.

"You insulted me and my family, as well as neglected and abused your son," Meg had sneered, "and you think I'll forgive you for that? It was your fault you couldn't keep your legs crossed in the first place. Herbert had nothing to do with that, so just because of that, it did not mean you should take it out on him." Her skin bubbled as though acid splashed over it. She had waited for Isabel West to give a comeback, but instead she got a shake of the head.

"No, I don't expect you to forgive me. I don't expect anything from you, but I really want you to understand, as strange as it is." Her attention then turned to Katherine. "No one really knows but my husband, so you'll know at last, too." She then surprised them both when she revealed her story to them the same way Katherine first told Meg so long ago of their parents.

Not unlike her own son, she didn't get along with her parents either, but she never knew why they'd abused her, and her husband Rick had been her savior, but the unexpected birth of their son had made things more complicated, but that was the most natural thing in the world. However, it didn't give her an excuse to treat her own child the way she did. Herbert was still her son, no matter what. Meg was slowly beginning to understand her after all, but her anger was still there, and anything can harden a girl's heart. She could have been a better mother, but never had it in her because her parents were bad examples.

However, by the time dinner was over and Meg was returning home, she began to think maybe after some time, she could begin to help Herbert and his parents...reconcile. As challenging as that was given how much her lover hated them both so much.

"Meg!"

"Crawford, Herbert!" she exclaimed when they surprised her from coming out of the kitchen. "What are you guys doing here so late? Actually, Crawford," she corrected. Then she saw the grim looks on their faces and got the tremors. "You guys..."

"We saw your father," Crawford said. "You'll never believe this, but Hill did more than simply examine him. He...lobotomized him."

~o~

The figure sat curled up on the sofa in between him and Crawford, shaken to her core at the revelation of what they discovered of her father when they entered through the cell door, which happened to be open, proving strange even to both of them. Why would Hill leave the door unlocked as well as Halsey out of the straightjacket, had been the first question. The door just _had_ to be open, and guard let down as soon as you approached Halsey who was still curled up in the corner. But Hill doubted anyone might break into his office without him knowing, so it seemed.

Until both men knelt down before Halsey and Herbert made the bold move of putting his hand on the older man's shoulder, causing him to jerk up and shrink back into the corner, trying to get away from the man he remembered caused his death. A part of Herbert felt enthralled with the success of this man, and he would have had his chance with Erin McMichaels if she hadn't been so far out of the fresh zone as well as cremated for her daughter to take home; Katherine was the one to take her urn home. Her ashes were currently in a hand-painted china urn depicting a scenery from the Qing dynasty and mounted on ornate bronze.

"Oh, God, Herbert, look at this," Crawford had gasped, placing his hand on the reddening spot on the top right of Halsey's cranium. "Please tell me that's not a laser drill..."

Herbert had nodded, disappointing him utterly. Dr. Halsey had been lobotomized, alright. This was just as barbaric as the other criminal acts Hill was guilty of; he'd neurosurgically softened Halsey to prevent him from ever uttering a word to anyone about what happened to him. To prevent any way of releasing the truth that his daughter and her lover were responsible for what happened to him...and what happened to him was something Carl Hill was after. Hill had gone to extremes for this; he was much more sophisticated than Herbert thought before.

"He lobotomized Daddy..." Meg finally spoke, though her voice was devoid of any form of rationality. "...so he could control him in case he tried to breathe a word about what happened."

"So Hill could protect _his_ discovery," Herbert agreed, taking her into his arms when she leaned into him. "Yes, very clever. But at least we're onto him now." He looked up and gave Crawford a secret smile, but his cousin didn't return it.

"Herbert, why are you smiling?"

He let his smile slip away. "Crawford, don't you see? This is _perfect_. We have enough dirt on him to proceed, but that begs the question about the re-agent." They had not recovered the vial and needles of the serum in his office, as expected, so that left his home in question. Which would be very difficult to get in. However, he said he wanted to work on the wedding day, and that meant him abandoning his bride for it. Now Herbert was getting the idea that perhaps the wedding day was the best day to act, instead of spoiling the fun so soon. Herbert, Crawford, and Katherine had been invited, and that made things even more tough. He would be watching the woman he loved walk down the aisle alone – her father would not be present to take her to her groom – to the man who was a pest in their lives.

But that day would also be his last, and Meg would be free of him as Herbert would be free to take back what was theirs.

~o~

"You couldn't wait until morning," Crawford said when they settled down in the living room. Meg had since gone to bed, and Herbert wanted them to wait until then so they could show their other finding to Katherine. He didn't want Meg to know, apparently, didn't want to scare her more than she was. He knew how Kathy would feel once she saw what Hill actually kept of his bride-to-be; it was worse than simply because it was her father's wishes.

He harbored an insane obsession for her.

"Oh, God, the sick..." Katherine's voice failed her when she looked over the pictures of her sister, the articles, but the hair most of all. "And on my sister." She huffed angrily and dropped it all onto the table in front of them and turned to face them both. "We really should include this among. The police will have to see that he's a psycho stalker..."

"But then they'll ask us why we were there besides simply knowing there was something suspicious," Crawford interrupted, knowing that even Bubba might not be able to protect them without risking his own job. "We had enough of them with Pretorius and can't have that here, remember? I've had more than enough therapy of insanity to last me a lifetime."

She gaped at him. "Excuse me, but then again you would never have had _me_ there for you!" she scolded. "I helped you get your life back and put this behind you!"

How could he forget that? "You _did_ ," Crawford insisted, "but this time is different and you know it. You might be labeled an accomplice and lose everything you have, too. Should this get out of hand if Hill turns the tables against us." Which was highly possible now that he remembered Hill was a respected member of the science committee.

"Please, enough," Herbert interrupted, getting both their attentions back to him. "This is out of hand enough as it is, because Hill overpowered me when I should have killed him before. Just once in my life, I wanted to make an exception and murder someone like him and not regret it."

He was really angry, as Crawford had always seen him, but beneath that anger, he sensed something much deeper than that. Much deeper than harsh resentment for taking what Herbert loved the most besides Meg. Crawford still believed more than just blackmail occurred enough to make Herbert resort to extreme measures, but his cousin was keeping a secret from him that he'd been patiently waiting for long enough. Then Herbert looked at him as though reading his mind, whole face blazing besides his eyes. "You want to know what Hill did to me? Fine, you can stop pestering me about it in your head." He lowered his eyes to the floor but said nothing. His feelings were hurt, making Crawford feel bad once again. He reached out and put his arm around Herbert's shoulder, but the latter shrugged him off.

"Hill did what I should never have gone through. What no man should ever go through, and I was so afraid Meg wouldn't want me anymore, but she stayed with me. Hill held her in place and forced her to watch everything." He looked up at them both finally, and there was a robust incandescence even more powerful than any wildfire or natural eruption on the planet.

"He raped me."

~o~

Telling Crawford the truth had rendered him getting some power back. Herbert would not have cared whether or not Crawford was disgusted with him or not; he didn't need it. But then his cousin showed it: disgust. Not for him, but for Hill. And then he surprised him with the very words:

"He's dead then. For what he did to you, cousin." His hand was on Herbert's then, promising him that no more fights from now on. He regretted pushing him the way he did, but he was his family and promised long ago when they were children that he would never abandon him no matter what. "Starting now, I'll stop all of my objections," Crawford had said when he moved over and held his cousin close to him. "We'll bring Hill down soon enough." Then he'd looked over to his wife behind him when she laughed and joined them in a group hug.

"That's my boys," Katherine had said, sealing it all.

And now today was the day that came. Herbert hated today for very obvious reasons, but it was also the end of Hill today, no later. Meg might marry him and become Mrs. Carl Hill, but in the end she would end up a widow and free to be with Herbert. Herbert had to see Meg before the wedding, not care that she was getting her hair and makeup done, but that also meant her groom was forbidden to see her before the ceremony. Katherine was with him, in her new dress she bought for today. She looked really remarkable in layered, three-toned amethyst with her jewelry consisting of the pink oval sapphires with flashing round diamonds, enough to even make the Chinese Empress a green-eyed monster. She might as well make his mother envious if she were here right now.

"So, she still doesn't know about the file?" Herbert had to ask when they got off the elevator for the third level. He thought it best if Meg didn't know, for her own sake. Katherine shook her head and answered no. When they finally reached room 312, she knocked on the door and was answered by a muffled call on the other side.

He frowned at the golden taupe-washed walls and flooring, the crystal chandelier overhead lighting up with a touch of grandeur, but it was the bride herself in the middle of the room, finishing up by herself, who caught his attention. There she was in the big gown, though when she once looked at it as perfect on her body, now it was a suffocating chain link to the prison she found herself unsure of escaping now. Her hair was set with a short, two-layered veil of soft white tulle with no need for anymore embellishment. Around her neck was the blazing Ottoman jewel from Hill, heavy over her equally heavy heart; Herbert laughed to himself at the pun. Her hands held a bouquet of white roses and hydrangeas. She was...beautiful.

"What are you guys doing here?" she asked, shocked. "You're supposed to be downstairs with the other guests by now."

"I had to see you first," Herbert answered, moving over and taking her face into his hands, bringing it up for a kiss. He didn't care about anyone else walking in on them right now. Everything ended today and he knew it would be the two of them together without anymore troubles at all. "I came to tell you everything ends today."

She looked puzzled. He hadn't breathed a word to her lately of him and Hill returning back to the house, and little did Hill himself know his fate would be determined there. Just once, Herbert could imagine himself losing control there and enjoy it all like flowers blooming in the coming spring.

"Yeah, it all stops today, Meg," Katherine spoke as she came up to embrace her as soon as Herbert separated himself. "Everything will be over soon, and everyone goes home happy."

They left her alone without telling her more. Herbert didn't feel the need to elaborate, just leave her wondering what would happen now exactly. But what he would do would be the best wedding gift she would ever have received in her life.

The ceremony was overtly done as much as the reception party would be. And he was talking artificial white trees lining the aisle, the runner a shining white, and opulent crystal chandeliers overhead. It was like being in either a winter wonderland or a fairytale book. Herbert and Katherine joined Crawford on the right, the second to front, so Hill wouldn't be sneering at him the whole time. All he wanted was to see Meg's face as she took her vows to the man who would be gone soon enough. And then when the music finally started up, all rose for the entrance of the bride. Herbert's breath hitched when she glided down like an angel – no, not God's angel, but an angel of his heart – in soft gold to pop out from the purity of this room. But she was hardly pure than she was when she first met Herbert in what felt like an eternity ago.

The bride and groom did not join hands as Crawford and Katherine did, and the minister did not force them to, either. Nor did they write vows for themselves as the latter couple did. Meg's face was stoic the whole time, trying her hardest not to cry, even when she whispered, "I do." Her ring was joined with a plain, dainty golden band soon enough, and pronounced the wife of Dr. Carl Hill.

But not for long.

"You may kiss the bride."

Herbert gritted his teeth when Carl Hill pushed the veil up and took her face in his hands, leaning down and doing exactly the deed. The audience groaned in spite of themselves, making him smile and laugh. They didn't like it any more than he did. He looked to his side when Crawford covered his whole face to prevent his poor eyes from looking as well as gagging, and Katherine shook her head while covering her own eyes with one hand. Herbert could have sworn Crawford moaned through his hands, "Poor Meg." He couldn't have agreed more.

When the kiss broke, Meg had the look that told him secretly that she was trying not to vomit in front of all the guests. When that was over, she waved her bouquet in the air and followed her new "husband" down the aisle so they would part their separate ways before the reception, which wasn't for another two and a half hours. Preparations for cocktail hour was the excuse, but Carl Hill was known for "no questions asked" to anyone in Arkham. Herbert knew this was it. He turned to Crawford when he leaned in and whispered into his ear.

"I'll follow you guys and stick far behind so he doesn't see me, but enough for me to keep an eye on the both of you." He followed his wife after Herbert's silent nod of agreement. Then he looked back up and saw none other than Hill approaching with his famous smile in place.

"I suppose this isn't a bad time now, West, to depart these exhausting festivities and get to work now? This is going to be a glorious day to remember."

"Indeed," Herbert answered, thinking the exact opposite.

They were in his cramped little vehicle for the thirty minute drive back to the Halsey residence, but Herbert much preferred the tense silence in comparison to Hill's pathetic attempts to make friendly conversation. "You're not still angry with me, are you?" He wasn't referring to just taking the formula. Oh, he really wanted to go there and reopen the damage done.

"Don't pretend it didn't happen when it did," Herbert said with his chin raised, looking ahead instead of the man behind the wheel. The man who kissed his beloved. "Just drive and say no more until we get to the house."

He was glad Hill obeyed and said no more, but he was scowling the whole time as Herbert was doing. When they finally got to the house, Hill finally spoke to him. "Lead the way through the house, Mr. West. And I trust you won't run from me." He looked down at the older man's hands, where the familiar black bag was in his hands. His formula and notes that were of HIS hands and not the one holding it. Herbert scoffed and led the way in, unlocking the door and opening it to go inside first, closing it but not locking it, for Crawford to come in.

"This way," he said coldly as he marched in the direction of the basement, pulling the key from his pocket that he kept at all times. When he closed the door behind him as he did before, watching Hill descend the stairs and take in his surroundings, he felt his insides buzz with warmth. Revenge would have its day. He slowly crept down the stairs, seeing this as his opportunity to take Hill out now. But what could he use?

And then he saw it, as soon as he reached the bottom of the stairs and looked down to his right.

A _shovel_.

"You will be my assistant," Hill was saying as he got out the vials of the glowing green potion. "We will work closely together, and in a year or so, we will reveal _my_ new serum to the world." By then, Herbert had cautiously picked up the shovel and raised it like a baseball bat, prepared to strike the ball. Oh, he could see it coming. He took a few more steps forward as Hill pulled out the black journal that Herbert had written with his own hands. "And by then, I will be _famous!_ "

That last word struck Herbert's nerve the same time he swung the shovel with all his might, cracking against the back of Hill's skull hard. The doctor groaned in pain as he fell, clutching his head in pain and flinching. He didn't see it coming when Herbert brought the shovel down and stabbed him in the neck. Blood spurted out and hit his clothing, coming in thicker sprays with the next dig of metal into flesh, tendon and bone, severing nerves, arteries and veins in the process. With that third and final jab, he was close to removing the head altogether. Gore poured from Hill's mouth as his disarticulated neck bled heavily and dark violet-red onto the floor beneath him. His eyes were wide with the deepest horror, which was exactly how Herbert wanted to see his enemy.

"Plagiarist," he spat as he stomped his foot onto the shovel and finished the job off, removing Dr. Carl Hill's head from his body completely. The body twitched involuntarily for a few moments before losing control altogether and collapsing dead. Herbert glared down at it for a second before dropping the shovel and reaching down to grab the head by the hair, bringing it over to the tin dish laying on the table. He rested it sitting up, but the damn thing slid forward, too stubborn to comply. Frowning, Herbert wondered how to keep it up so he could stare at the face of the man who destroyed the life of the man who was like a father to him, blackmailed him with his life's work, tried taking away the woman he loved, and raped him here in this very room. Ahh, yes. Herbert could feel his body stirring with the pleasure that he got when he and Meg made love.

Then he saw the silver metal paper holder beside the tray. Picking it up, Herbert then lifted Hill's severed head up and placed the metal beneath it, jabbing the head over it and sitting back down, taking in the peaceful face. He relished every bit of it, admiring it on display like the Japanese did with the heads of their enemies.

Oh, that was it! It hit him with the speed and force of nature's tropical fury. He had a fresh body...a body with the head taken away...

"YES!" He reached down and picked up a vial and syringe. "Parts." He had never done separate parts before. Correction: _whole_ parts. Perhaps he could take this opportunity to see if his long-neglected serum still had its effect...starting with the severed head and body of his adversary, Dr. Carl Hill.

 **Uh oh.**


	26. Snow White Queen

**An all-too familiar trigger warning is all I'm gonna say.**

Chapter Twenty-Five

Snow White Queen

 _"Weeeessssstttttt..."_

He'd done it...he'd _DONE_ it! Herbert almost couldn't utter correct words when he looked into the once-again living smoky eyes of Carl Hill, the new husband of his love. Oh, the joy! The wonder! The irony – he could go on forever. Simple curiosity was all it took to see if maybe the body and brain could exist alone without the dependency for each other; the other half of his own brain suggested that the answer was no given the brain controlled the whole body with the heart, that the body couldn't exist without either of them. But this was an extremely fresh corpse as Halsey had been, so there was no time to waste.

Given the head was severed, injecting into the spinal cord proved to be a challenge, so the heart was the best option, it seemed. But after seconds of waiting, after he tore off his salty blood-smelling jacket, the eyes of the head in the dish before him opened, having taken seventeen seconds like Meg's father. Although the headless body was taking an even longer amount of time, for who knew how long.

But in the meantime, the head with its eyes now focused on Herbert's face was his top priority, and he couldn't wait to get started on his notes which were back in his grasp. "Yes, Doctor!" he said excitedly. "It's West. Herbert West. What are you thinking? How do you _feel?_ " He could imagine Hill wasn't feeling a thing without his own body, making him want to laugh. Now he would know what it was like to have something important taken from you.

The vocal cords were disconnected, and the windpipe let loose a strange, scratchy wheezing noise, but the answer was clear as a whistle: _"Yoooouuuuu..."_

Herbert nodded and picked up his pen. "'You'," he repeated, quickly jotting it down in time to hear the next word.

 _"Baaaasstaaaaaaard..."_

Herbert wrote that down and then reread it over, suddenly getting a shocking feeling too late. Hill was cursing him. Cursing him for doing this to him. It was also then he realized that when people would be looking for him, they would eventually find out from his own words that _Herbert West_ was the culprit – but on the other hand, who would really believe a walking, talking headless man?

He felt hands behind his head too late and his face slammed forward on the table surface, his skull bursting with pain and his eyesight blackening to not remembering what happened next.

~o~

They'd been in the house long enough, and Crawford was beginning to worry. What were they up to? He had that terrible feeling something had happened, and he wasn't going to just sit and wait. Hopefully, someone back at the hotel noticed Dr. Hill was missing by now and he had to tell them both they had to get back in time, though he doubted Hill would care about anyone inquiring. Either way, he had to do _something_. Which was better than nothing at all.

He'd parked the car on the edge of the driveway, not caring about a ticket or not, but no cop cars were in sight. The front door was unlocked just for him, and he hurried for the basement, opening the door and looking down only to see Hill nowhere in sight, but his cousin sat at the table with his head down, unconscious but now waking. Panicking, Crawford continued running down the stairs. "Herbert, what – WHOA!" Too late, he slipped off something _wet_ on the floor as soon as his feet left the bottom step. His legs gave out from underneath so he landed flat on his backside, his whole rear numb and flaring with pain. His palms hit the floor flat, and when he brought them up, they were covered with _blood_. "Herbert!" he growled in frustration, knowing EXACTLY what happened. How could he do this, against their _PLANS_?! He gathered himself up and rushed over to Herbert, who was just raising his fingers to his head to try and soothe the migraine he had. His glasses had fallen off. Crawford picked them up and put them back over his eyes for him. "What happened here?" he demanded.

Herbert didn't answer him right away, instead looking around and seeing – "Oh, AGAIN!" he burst out, jumping from the table and knocking the chair over. "He took the work again!"

Crawford scoffed and shook his head. "You think? Would you care now to tell me what exactly happened here?" Still no answer. His patience was losing fast. "You killed him, didn't you?"

"I had to," Herbert answered calmly. "This was the only chance. This was exactly what he deserved for everything. You told me yourself that he was a dead man, so I delivered." His smile graced his soft face again, but it made Crawford angrier.

"I was giving a figure of speech, but I never thought you'd actually carry it out!" Except deep down, he had a feeling his cousin surely would carry out. Herbert never wasted his words.

And now wherever Hill was now, he was planning whatever his next step was. There was no possibility he would return to the wedding looking the way he did...

"Oh, God, that's it!" he exclaimed. Herbert frowned at him, folding his arms across his chest. "Hill is after Meg, besides the work! You killing him and bringing him back set him off, so now he wants her. She's in more danger than before. We have to get back to the hotel and get her away now."

Herbert had the contemplation look on his face mingled with regret, putting his lover in more jeopardy than she was in.

~o~

West, that bastard! Carl swore to him to the highest heavens. He did this to him, and he would pay for it.

The metal of the pan sliding against his face was cold and unforgiving, and the amount of blood to keep him going was losing and draining fast as his opened veins, arteries and the rest still took it in to travel through his system, but his body was so lucky to be moving as it should, although it took some getting used to. It was a miracle, too, that he managed to get to his office undetected without anyone finding him at this time of night. It was barely eight, and his new bride was far off from here, waiting for him. He would never get back to her this way, no damn thanks to West.

Meg would cringe and stay away from him now. But he wouldn't let her go now. There was only one sure way to ensure she never left his side, starting with her father still in his cell.

Carl sighed with utter pleasure as the blood from the bag taken from the fridge was filled into the dish, washing him with life enough to be lifted out by his hair – he flinched at the pressure of his hair pulled at his scalp – and brought over to the window at the sight of the figure moved from the right corner to the left. _"Alaaaan..."_ Carl managed to rasp, the link from his own brain to Halsey's strong as an overhead cable so the transfer of control from one energy source to the other was fast and direct. In response, Alan stood up at the sound of his name and walked over to the window, his face unchanging and more blood pouring from his mouth.

 _"Alaaan,"_ Carl spoke again, getting his attention through the window; it was one-way so he couldn't see him, but Halsey was looking DIRECTLY as though he could actually view him, _"it's...tiiiime...for yooouuu...to come out...nooooow...and bring your daughter to meee."_

~o~

"Where are the guys?"

They were back in the hotel room until cocktail hour in less than an hour and a half, but Crawford and Herbert had not yet returned. And neither had Hill. The guests were unaware for the time being, but Meg was asking her now, in the gap between the ceremony's end and cocktail hour. Katherine had time to sneak and visit the bride before then, as inappropriate as it was. It was nerve-wracking because Katherine wondered what was keeping the men so long.

What if Herbert...?

Her train of thought was interrupted by her sister. "Katherine, where do you think they are?" She sounded like she was on the verge of impatience. She'd just changed into a softer, lighter dress for the reception coming up. It had a slim silhouette, tulle and traditional lace together, complete with a plunging V-neckline and straps. It was innocence and modern romance in one. But Meg wasn't smiling; why would she?

"I don't know," she said. "Although..." She hesitated, knowing she couldn't lie to her but also didn't want anymore trouble today for her. "...we've wanted to wait until today was over to tell you. Hill wanted Herbert to...work with him on the formula today."

Meg gaped, staring at her in shock for a very long moment. "You're kidding," she said, even though she knew Katherine wasn't. She shook her head.

"Not at all. But Herbert and Crawford have a plan to expose enough dirt on him to save us all. The problem is, I don't know what is keeping them." She shook her head. "But then again, research takes time."

Meg scoffed and walked over to grab the champagne flutes prepared, courtesy of room service. "I really hope Herbert doesn't do something I don't like, get us all in trouble like before." She was referring to the incident in the morgue with Halsey and the corpse. Katherine sighed and accepted her flute, taking a small sip.

"Herbert would do _anything_ , remember? He doesn't care what needs to be done, as long as it is."

At the same time, the door was bounded on a couple times briefly before an arm broke through, and finally a whole body knocking it down into pieces. Meg screamed and dropped her champagne flute when Katherine did. "No, Daddy!" Katherine was freaking out with her; how did Dean Halsey get out of the cell in Hill's office? Unless...

She didn't dodge him in time only for him to grab her by the throat and tighten his hand around her, almost crushing her esophagus – she felt like she was dying, and began to scream internally that she didn't want to, but all she could do was gag wordlessly – and her hearing was deafening, but she could still hear Meg screaming at her father to leave her sister alone. That was the last thing Katherine heard and saw before she was thrown into the wall, her head bursting into an explosion of a headache and a whitening vision before both her eyes.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself loaded onto a stretcher, blinking away light and trying to acknowledge where she was now. She was laying on a stretcher, strapped down and unable to move. Her head pounded, and she moaned. "Hey, easy," a voice said above her. She looked up to see who the speaker was, and gasped.

"Crawford! And Herbert!" He nodded, lips in a grim line. "What happened? Where's Hill?"

"You really don't want to know," Herbert told her softly, "with all these people around." He nodded around them, where all the wedding guests and other residents and the staff of the hotel were watching and talking amongst each other, even some police around. "But he's both dead and alive, thanks to me." He sighed and bowed his head. "And Meg..."

At the mention of her sister's name, Katherine almost jolted. "Meg! Oh, God, Halsey came and took her. You guys have to go get her back," she begged, considering who knew what HILL was going to do to her now.

"We got in a near wreck on the way back here, baby," Crawford told her, taking her hand into one of his and brushing some of her loose hair with his other. "I think now it was Halsey, at full speed, despite being dead. I think Hill was controlling him," he said with a laugh; she thought it was, too, but didn't have it in her to join in with the laughter. "He got some cars wrecked on the way here and I think back to...the hospital." He stopped there. "Oh, that must be where he took her, Herbert."

Herbert agreed. "I imagine that is it. We're going to get her back, Katherine, so in the meantime, you're going to the hospital yourself for now." She couldn't protest that this was her sister and felt it was the right thing to be included, but the doors of the emergency van were already closing on her after she was loaded inside.

~o~

The whole time he was in that pan while his body – with the mannequin head in replacement of his own – moved of its own, wearing his every day surgeon gear, and got out every one of the bodies in the morgue, prepped the laser surgical drill first into their brains before the formula next, estimating the dosage to be twenty CCs based on his own instinct, Carl Hill partially busied himself with Meg on his mind, and her father bringing her to him, whilst trying to focus on the job as part of his plans for West and his buffoon of a cousin, and Meg's insufferable sister. He was so lucky that the idiotic Mace didn't catch up, either.

He could almost hear himself laughing as he pictured Halsey mindlessly driving his car through the streets of Arkham, evading obstacles just to bring the prize straight for here. Imagine the mayhem he would cause in the streets without a care as much as Hill didn't care. All he wanted was his new wife brought to him to finish their wedding day as it should, without any interference.

The back door was bounded on then. Twice.

Even though his head was no longer connected to the neck, he could still feel his heart pounding with excitement. Perfect timing, given he'd just finished up with the latest subject. _"The door..."_ he hissed delightfully. His body responded by turning off the drill and hanging it back into place, then rigidly and slightly clumsily began to walk over to the back door where Alan was waiting. His eyes flared as his grin broadened when Alan entered, head cocked upward and seeing nothing in particular, concentrated only on bringing his unconscious daughter in his arms over to the table Hill's head in the dish rested on the operating table.

Carl rasped exquisitely as Megan was laid out on the table by her father. The dress enhanced every curve of her body, the great diamond glittering above the curves of her chest, and her peaceful face lolled to the side, facing him. He could feel himself stirring with desire as he beheld her face and body, so vulnerable and all his even though West already took her sweet innocence. Not caring the slightest that this was his colleague's daughter or the fact her father was in the room, all he could think about was getting this infuriating dress off of her. _"Oh, yeessss, Alaaan..."_

Halsey responded by going over and taking the dress by the straps and tugging it off in two tries. Meg's breasts were revealed to his own eyes, bouncing delectably in the process, two full Indian dome curves peaked with rosy pink already hardened. The dress was gone from the waist up, showing a remarkable hourglass figure and a flat stomach; her underwear was next, showing gently flaring hips and toned legs, her woman's triangle covered with lush golden curls. Carl could hardly wait for this moment any longer, sending waves to his needy body to get the bride ready for the "honeymoon", tying both her wrists and ankles down with the bindings secured on the table. Once he was done, he took more time to look her over once more, before he sensed her father trying to break free from the mental control Carl had over him. He sent the message to not even think about interfering while he handled his new bride before she woke.

Carl closed his eyes when his hands began their work, starting from those thighs, caressing silky and firm flesh, then to her hips and fondling the curves. Though he wouldn't get too far there just yet, he let one hand move down and brush against her inner zone, the curls downy soft beneath his fingers. He went back to the rest of her body, finally moaning when his hands grasped her breasts, fondling them and squeezing them. _"Ohhh, Meeeg..."_ Her breasts were luscious like Spanish cakes, red velvet...he could go on forever. He could spend all evening just savoring the feel of them under his hands...

He opened his eyes when a scream sounded. Meg had awoken. She looked down first and saw her mandatory state of undress after seeing the "mystery man" in the surgeon's uniform before turning her attention to Carl, and as soon as she saw him, she screamed again and struggled against her bonds. She managed to pull her right hand free and swung it at the "surgeon", knocking the head off to show it was only a dummy head...and a headless red stump of muscles. Carl never thought he would say this, but her fear and resistance turned him on at the present. Her screams continued with her hand attempting to wave off his head lifted out of the pan to waver over her briefly, strands of muscles dripping blood beneath him, but all his attention was focused on Meg. There was nowhere for her to run, so they were going to get this over with.

She whimpered as his face was nearing hers. _"Meg...I've always...admired your beauty, your spirit. Yet you chose_ him, _"_ he fumed, making her shrink back lower. _"I've always loved you long before you knew it...now it is time to kiss the bride."_

She started screaming and crying again when his head was lowered, held on either side by both of his hands, kissing and licking her ear as a start; she tasted so sweet, as he imagined she would. _"You belong to me, my little queen,"_ Carl drawled as he placed a kiss on her shoulder next, making her sob harder. _"You will learn to love me soon. You belong to me."_

Meg's wailing increased when he moved down to her breast, licking the smooth ivory skin curve before taking the nipple in between his teeth. She tasted sweet as honey, even sweeter than the rest of her body – although not as sweet as where he would be soon with his mouth. "Please," she begged. "Please, stop and let me go!"

He laughed when she began to slap his face; his cheek was burning not from anger and humiliation, but with more lust. _"That's it, my dearest Meg,_ more _passion!_ " And onward to the best part itself: right between her beautiful legs where the forbidden fruit awaited. The best of all kinds. His bride threw her head back and howled to God who couldn't even save her now, not even the little –

"Keep your squalid face and tongue off of her, Dr. Hill."


	27. All That I'm Living For

Chapter Twenty-Six

All That I'm Living For

She had never felt so filthy and used in her life. Being forced to kiss Hill and wanting to puke was short-lived, but this was beyond tolerable. If this was how Herbert felt, then she knew how he felt even more so now. If that was how he'd lived after what happened in the basement – alive and dead at the same time, unable to ignore your body's desecration like a sacred temple intruded, even though Hill didn't really finish the job off – then she loved him more that she truly began to understand his pain at the hands of the man who tried to do to her what he did to Herbert...but she felt so dirty, and could still feel _his_ tongue and teeth on her. Meg lay on the table, curling up into the best fetal position she could muster, with her other hand and both ankles still strapped down, and tried to cover her face all the way up in shame that Herbert had finally come to her rescue, but he'd seen what Carl was doing to her. Herbert had killed him for her – all for her – but he just HAD to bring the bastard back, of all people. If they ever made it out alive, she would lecture him over and over to _never_ bring back someone whom you loathed very much.

"I'm _very_ disappointed in you," Herbert was saying as he stepped around her father and a few tables of bagged bodies so he stood in front of the headless doctor who held his head with both hands. "You steal the secret of life and death and choose today of all days to sneak away to tryst with your new bride instead of focusing on something more important...but that's because you're not even a second-rate scientist," he sneered, leaning forward, hands in both pockets of his coat. "You're a fraud. You will NEVER be anywhere close to my genius level."

She managed to lower her hand and smile at him; he caught it and returned it briefly before scowling again when Carl spoke to him in the same disarticulated accent. _"I'm so glad you made it, Mr. West. It saved me the trouble of having to send for you, after I sent Halsey on a high-speed chase."_

Herbert's lip curled as he returned, "You think you've won, Hill? Do you really think _you_ will become famous? No one will ever believe a talking head whose vehicle was identified by witnesses, sent the dean on an abduction mission, and it is all right here in front of my eyes." He nodded to Meg, who still lay on the table tied down, and turned back to him. "What I suggest for you is to get a job in a sideshow."

Meg looked up when another familiar face leaned over her and covered her with his suit jacket. "Crawford...!" She almost raised her voice when he slapped his hand over her mouth to hush her. She wanted to ask where Katherine was before she decided now wasn't important. She fervently hoped her sister was all right after Daddy tossed her into the wall. He helped get the bonds undone and then worked to unbutton his shirt to give to her for now; how nice of him. She could use it. In the meantime, she heard Carl's next words.

 _"I wonder why an intelligent young man like yourself should make such a foolish, fatal mistake of coming here to challenge meeee."_

That alone made her worry. If Herbert and Crawford came alone unarmed... "Oh, I have a plan," Herbert replied, although he sounded doubtful of his own words as much as Meg was.

And Carl Hill was so sure of himself. _"So do IIIII..."_

~o~

All of these things which burst from the bags all around were nothing of what Herbert ever wanted his own to be; they were torn apart from the inside like the dead in the horror tales rising from their coffins. Crawford, now shirtless but wearing a lean muscle shirt, stood in front of Meg who was now wearing his shirt – he would kill Hill for sure this time for this – and screaming in fright at the grotesque horde around them. Herbert remembered exactly all of them from when he came in here with Meg the night her father was killed: there was the "meatball" himself, missing an arm and leg, snarling and crawling rigidly off the table and moving to grab at Meg, who was taken hostage by an obese woman; if Herbert remembered correctly, she tried saving this woman's life the day their paths crossed in Hill's class. So long ago.

Crawford wasn't physically built just like he wasn't, even though he fought off a burned one, half black and not even remotely close to human, joined with an African American man who looked more blue than his normal brown, with tubes all over his body and some pulled through his mouth – malpractice, of course – and so many others. From where he was standing, Herbert assessed their strength and tried to think of how he could help both Meg and Crawford. So far, all he had was his re-agent syringe, safe inside his coat. The best use he could do was an overdose on Hill's body.

He had his chance when Hill turned away from him to enjoy the show. Crawford was doing well, though trying to get to Meg who was tearing herself away from the monsters who tried to tear her hair off as well as claw at her skin like Crawford got a few times. If he didn't act soon, these "ghosts" would surely tear them to pieces, like the ghosts of the past gaining up, but Herbert wasn't going to let these things take his loved ones from him; he silently crept up behind Hill's headless body with the glowing green needle in hand –

– only to be surprised when the head was brought up and turned behind to see him coming up. Herbert decided to waste no time and charge, only to find his wrist snatched and twisted enough to wring his muscles and loosen his grip on his weapon, then be thrown to the floor. "ENOUGH!" Hill shouted to the undead party of his making. Holding his throbbing wrist, Herbert looked up and saw Crawford dropped to the floor and Meg released as well so she could dive to his side. All the attention was on Herbert now.

He was picked up and dragged over to the table, where Hill's head had been placed back into the dish, his attention fiery on Herbert now. This was a living versus dead match, and Herbert was outnumbered. _"I will show_ you _power, Mr. West,"_ Hill seethed. _"I'll show you what you could never before comprehend, with what began all the way back in Switzerland less than a century ago..."_ He smiled malevolently, knowingly. _"...but never used before as a technique in lobotomy: a laser surgical drill, which will make it possible. It will result in total mastery of the human will, and re-animated subjects have proven to be the best. They will give me power...undreamed of power!"_

He took note of how they all now stood at attention, stiff as soldiers ready for the order to open fire, blood pouring over their chins in a blend of red and black. Hill was the evil one, not _him_. This was what Herbert West would _never_ resort to, taking control of another person's mind for his own thirst for power. He wanted to cure death for a cause, not for fame and influence. And that was what separated him from Carl Hill, the man who had no influence like his own mentor who was betrayed by him, left to die in agony, and put his prized son-pupil in his place. Hill loathed him because he was Hans Gruber's last hope for the future, the brightest star in his sky which would never go out.

Now Herbert found himself turned around and shoved onto the table, pinned down by the brute strength of Hill's mindless machines; he couldn't even pull himself apart without risking losing a limb. _"Now YOU will experience how it feels,"_ Hill said gleefully as his headless body brought forth the laser drill and lowered it to Herbert's forehead – in the same place Halsey got the treatment.

~o~

How ironic that when the night fell, anything could happen. It happened every time in every story and film up to date, from the beginning to now. During the day was life, but at night it was totally dead. There was nothing about it you could ever ignore. Such as the voice inside your head screaming that you have to live, stand and fight.

Meg finally let loose a scream of rage as she threw a kick to the "rundown meatball" – she would never forget that joke when she snuck Herbert into the morgue – and then another which was the guy who had been shot to the left side of the head. But when she prepared to make a move for the next one coming up, Crawford was picked up by none other than her father, still mind-controlled by Hill. Seeing this made her angry to her core once more...but then realization washed over her like a dam being opened and released.

She hadn't dwelled on it in awhile, but she still hated her father for her whole life being the way it was. She still hadn't been able to find the answer as to whether or not she would have met Herbert if her life had turned out different than it was; all she knew for sure if she'd grown up knowing Katherine and their mother, she might have...loved her father still as she did when she was younger. She didn't always hate him, as much as she wanted to the way she did now. His death was her fault, not just Herbert's. It wasn't supposed to be like that. She had felt lost after what happened, but then Herbert, her sister and brother-in-law helped her back onto her feet. There was nothing she could do now to change the past, but now she could try to reach out to her father now and get him to let Crawford go and – _stop Hill._

That was it! That was it, then. Herbert had said Daddy still had conscious thought after his re-animation, but did that include him having enough of his mind left to get to Hill now, for controlling him and having him bring his own daughter to help her be almost violated?

"Daddy, listen to me," she pleaded, trying not to croak. "It's Megan, _Megan_! You don't want to kill my brother-in-law! _Your_ son-in-law!"

Sadly, it didn't work, even though his head turned her way briefly before back to Crawford, whose throat was in his grasp and his shirt clutched at the front with another hand. Was this a waste of time, after all? Love hurt so much, but should she hate him forever, after seeing him in the padded cell that one day? Or should she take the chance and open the door in which she had to face the ghosts of the past and move on afterwards?

Seeing Herbert behind, the red laser drilling through his skull witnessed by a leering headless Hill in the dish, made her heart burst with her screams of anger at her father. _"LOOK AT ME!"_

At her howl, Crawford was let loose, falling to his knees and clutching at his throat, gagging for precious air. Meg stared first at him in shock and then at her father, but before she could react, three of those things were on her again, taking her by both arms and prepared for another round before Daddy shoved them off and stood before her, looking her over but not saying a word. She couldn't believe it; she'd done it! She'd gotten through to him – and now he was moving over to where Herbert was just receiving the lobotomy treatment, which made her fear for him. If he ended up like these things around her and Crawford –

"Look out!" he shouted, pushing her behind him and pulling the nearest gurney in front of them both to block the diabetic zombie and malpractice one from coming up to them, but their swiping claws extended to reach over. These things were hard to get rid of, never taking no for an answer, but what could you expect? Meg found what was a kind of toolbox lying around where they were and picked it up, swinging it and striking the run-over, sending him backwards.

And then it happened as a kind of blessing – or blessed surprise? – because the creatures ceased their attacks and backed away, clutching at their brains and releasing unholy shrieks of eternal agony not compared to the pain of their previous life rejecting them because they had their chances. Meg saw exactly the source along with Crawford as he shoved the table out of the way for them to run over and grab Herbert so they could go:

Hill's head was in between the hands of her father and screaming in the most appalling manner possible, outshining the wails of his legions. Blood gushed from his popped eyeballs and from both sides of his skull, cracking into his brain in the process, too. Meg thought she was going to faint, but Crawford helped her up with one arm as he dragged Herbert, who was still normal despite having a drill through his brain. But he stopped, pulling away from his cousin and moving for his bag.

"Wait, I'm not through! I have a theory, to end this for Hill!" he shouted over the chaos, then turned to Hill's headless corpse behind Daddy, trying to strangle him in a weak attempt to save his own head. "Overdose!" Herbert announced, plunging both needles directly into the back and injecting the serum deep into the system.

The body reacted in the most violent way unimagined, flailing its arms about blindly and running into the wall where it could go nowhere else, suffering the extra doses from Herbert, who followed it around as though it were an experiment. Damn it, this wasn't an experiment! Their lives were in danger! The re-animated around them were all over the place, tearing the room to shreds, crawling over blindly and shaking uncontrollably, and her father had just finished crushing Dr. Carl Hill's head into a soft form of a baked apple and threw it out through the opened front doors of the morgue.

She could breathe a sigh of relief and a small amount of freedom.

That was the last of Carl Hill she would ever see for the rest of her life.

"God, no, HERBERT!" she screamed when one of the intestines from Hill's quivering body shot out and wrapped around his face, then dragged him down to the floor and continued wrapping around his body until he was trapped. He squealed and struggled to free himself. Meg knew she had to do something about it, but how was she going to free the man she loved? She dove forward and tried to help get the slippery, slimy pale serpent from her lover...before smoke clouded her vision and her lungs felt like they were being crushed. Noxious gas had been broken from a jar and began to cloud the entire morgue. "No, Herbert, I won't leave you!" she choked out, but the stubborn intestines wouldn't let him go. She wanted to die here with him then, but then hands grabbed her and began to tear her away from him.

"Meg, come on!" Crawford said, helping her out. She tried to run back to Herbert, but he stopped her. "Megan, I want to help him, too, but we're going to die soon!"

"And so is he!" she argued, jerking her arms from his only to be ensnared by them again. "We can't leave him!"

"There's nothing we can do!" His attention jerked in the opposite direction, and his eyes widened. "Look out!" One of the monsters lunged forward from the darkness – a skin virus female – only to be grabbed by Alan Halsey, before more closed around him and dragged him away from both his daughter and son-in-law...

...only to meet his end when his limbs were torn from his body.

"DADDY!" Meg screamed out, the grief suddenly released like that. In that moment, when her father was finally gone for sure this time, she felt that door in her already broken heart open and unleashed the flood of forgiveness. She forgave him for everything: his lies, his separation of his two daughters, her unwilling engagement, nearly depriving her of her independence...and for not recognizing the intelligence of Herbert West, the real genius who really wanted to change the world and true love of his daughter's life.

"My notes!" She looked over when the black bag filled with the re-agent and notes were thrown in the air; she caught it thankfully but looked over one last time as Crawford dragged her out of there – and Herbert was screaming and fighting for his life against re-animated entrails and poisonous gas closing in on him from her eyes one last time.

~o~

They barely made it to the elevator, barely got past the beast with the half-shot face before Crawford gouged out one eye and got both him and Meg inside to safety. He pushed for the first level the same time Meg moved to stand beside him and held onto him tight, crying harder than usual. These weren't just tears of fear; they were of heartbreak and grief, and he knew exactly why.

"He's gone," Meg wept, mourning for her lost love and Crawford's cousin. He had been keeping it in most of the time, but now he couldn't contain himself any longer and began to cry a little with her. On the bright side, Hill was gone now, paid for his crimes against Meg and Herbert, against Dr. Gruber and anyone else he might have plagiarized now that he thought of it, and for anything else he did behind everyone's backs. And now for this. Herbert had honored his professor's dying wish.

But Halsey was gone. Having some experience in this, Crawford knew that by seeing her father torn to pieces before her eyes, she'd forgiven him for the terrible things he did to her. He always knew she would, and for that, he was proud that she'd finally moved on and found closure even in the most horrific circumstances.

But that meant Herbert, his family and one half of him, was gone, too. One other dark fear come to life that Crawford never thought would be possible. He would have said Herbert's obsession with conquering death, playing God, had gotten the best of him, but it was too cruel for that. He'd died fighting for the greater good – in his own way – fighting his enemy and saving both his family and the woman he loved, like in a classic epic story told throughout the ages. Now Crawford and Katherine Tillinghast would live knowing that, as well as Megan Halsey...and all of them would swear to take this to their graves.

Now they were at the car, having escaped through an emergency exit for the parking lot. They wouldn't run away not when they were involved and the only survivors of whatever happened in the morgue the reporters would call. Thankfully Crawford had his keys in his pants pocket and unlocked the trunk, taking the black bag and stashing it into the trunk. He wasn't a chemist like Herbert, and Meg knew as much as she could as a doctor. She wouldn't be able to do this by herself without Herbert. But right now, an investigation into the recent mishap might undergo. Crawford was prepared for a second time around. But Meg was leaning into the car, still crying. He sighed, shook his head and walked over to her, taking her into his arms again. "Meg, I miss him, too, and I'll never forget about him. I loved him, too. He died trying to accomplish a goal, died defeating his enemy...but most of all, he died for us."

She nodded, hiccupped, but then shook her head when she looked up at him. "But he died for nothing. We haven't even cheated death, and that was what he wanted. He wanted this so much, and now it will never happen. And he..." She paused, trying not to cry again. "...was the first man I ever truly loved. I loved him so much it hurt to lose him."

He was about to answer her when he spotted a couple police officers approaching. "Excuse me, were you two involved in the...distress we got a call on?" one of them asked. Crawford swallowed and let Meg go, nodding his answer. "Could you both come inside for some questions, if it's not a bad time?"

"It's all right," Crawford answered, nodding to Meg, too, who numbly followed by his side, but as soon as they were brought back in through the front door, they both heard the voice of the guy's partner on his walkie.

 _"Down in the morgue...secure...got a live one, nearly dead..."_

Crawford felt Meg's hand on his tighten as she listened with him; he knew what she was feeling, and it was exactly what he was: hope. "Go ahead," the guy answered.

 _"Male Caucasian, around mid-twenties. Wrapped in intestines from a mutilated body. He's breathing, but he's in critical condition, I think."_

"Herbert," Meg whispered, leaning into him, and that light of hope ever burned brighter within them both, but how long would _Herbert_ survive?


	28. Say You Will

**Now I bring you the last of this beloved tale. I hope the long wait for the whole story before had been worth it. :)**

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Say You Will

The moment she and Crawford accompanied their two officer companions to the elevator which brought the others up from the morgue, she heard herself gasp as well as cry a little one more time; she'd been crying so much lately when she didn't remember ever doing it that much as a little girl since her stepmother long since struck her and told her big girls never cried; now she could call Marianne a stepmother since the circumstances befitted enough. She'd told her long ago to _never_ cry over wasted time by any means.

Unless you lost or was on the verge of losing someone you cared about deeply. Like now.

"Herbert!" He was carried out of the elevator under the arms by one cop and by the legs by another. His face was reddening to the point of a bruise later on that would last for a good while, but the rest of his clothes prevented from seeing more damage done, at least until further examination. She wanted to be there to help examine the injuries, but the police needed her and Crawford right now. She was really afraid; she'd made it through last time regarding her father, but what if, this time, she would crack and give away everything this time?

Right now, everything didn't feel like it was real. Like back in the morgue with her father and the corpse that killed him, when it felt like a hideous nightmare she wanted to just wake up from. She felt like she was really losing control of her own sanity.

"Excuse me, I'm with the ER," she called, leaving Crawford and following the men carrying her lover in the direction of said emergency room. "I have to help him."

"Miss, we have questions to ask you –" one of the officers who was with Crawford protested, but she shook him off.

"I will after his life is saved!"

"Meg, oh, God!" Dr. Harrod had showed up then, along with the nurse and a few other doctors. "What happened?!" she cried when she saw her in the bloodied collared shirt and nothing else, as well as a badly wounded Herbert carried by the two cops. "Mr. West!"

"I'll explain later," Meg managed in spite of her shock, "but I want to save him first." Herbert was laid out on the operating table, his coat torn open to show his jacket, shirt and tie; the tie was tossed over one shoulder while his shirt was quickly unbuttoned with haste to bare his chest – and she was on the verge of puking right here. His soft chest and stomach were wound with thick ropes of red like his face, almost as if he'd been enveloped by an anaconda or a python maybe. He must have suffered from broken ribs and a crushed hip or something; if that was the case, he might have difficulty breathing if his lungs were ruptured in any way. They had to work fast. "Hurry and get the IV and anesthesia!" Meg shouted, taking the paddles from Dr. Harrod and demanding the paste from the nurse. "Clear!" She pressed the buttons and quickly removed them right after Herbert's body jumped up like a fish flopping on dry land. Looking up quickly at the EKG machine –

"Stable condition."

She almost heaved a sigh of relief and almost cried again. Herbert was alive. At least they made it in time, but the worst to find was to come. Meg handed the paddles back the same time the oxygen mask was placed over Herbert's mouth. His eyes hadn't even opened, but he was still breathing. Meg stood back and watched as he was lifted up so his coat was taken off of him and his jacket was worked on. "Meg, you can help us," Harrod told her gently, bringing her back over with one hand on her back. She really needed the mother's touch right now, and for once she welcomed it. Meg returned to help Herbert out of his clothes so they could see what trauma he'd sustained.

And what they found as soon as Herbert was completely naked shocked them all to their cores – especially Meg.

Herbert's small body suffered more than they thought. The red roping continued downward spiral, over his stomach and splitting in two over his pelvic region, which was unmarked save for both his hips and thighs, stopping at his ankles. Further examination indeed showed two cracked ribs which could be repaired via surgery, and his lungs were all right. However, he also got his larynx almost fractured, but it was a miracle he was still alive. He would have to be on rest for awhile for that afterwards, but it made Meg fear for his life even more. She prayed to God to not take him away from her.

"Okay, everyone, we're going to move him to the ICU," Harrod announced, before turning to Meg. "He's going to be fine, Megan. We'll do everything we can, remember? A good doctor _never_ gives up."

Surprised, Meg looked up to see her boss offering the small trace of a smile. All those times of being lectured about "a good doctor knows when to stop" vanished, leaving behind encouragement. "Don't give up on him now," Joan went on tenderly, "because I know he needs you."

She talked as though she knew the depth of Meg's feelings for the man loaded onto a stretcher, his nudity covered with a sheet to preserve his privacy, and the catheter stuck into his vein for the Sotalol to flow. "You knew I loved him all this time."

Joan nodded and led her out of the room, behind the group pushing the stretcher. "I saw all the signs: the way you look at each other, how highly you speak of him, and how he seems to genuinely care for you despite not liking other people. I haven't had the chance to get to know him much, but I think you two are perfect," she said with a little wider smile. "I knew Dr. Hill was never right for you."

"Mrs. Hill." She looked behind her to see the same officer who wanted to speak with her. "Are you ready now for the questions?"

~o~

Her headache had subsided, but she'd been in here for awhile, resting in the room on the same floor as the ICU...and that was when she saw it all though the window: Herbert covered with a sheet and on a stretcher as he was brought in for more examination. Katherine began to worry for him. What had happened to him?

She had been questioned more, being asked about Meg's kidnapper, who was the dean of the medical school, and she finally told the truth that she and Meg were twin sisters, gave away the whole story now that she'd been told Halsey was dead, torn to pieces downstairs in the morgue. She could still hear the screaming in the background, that everyone was in a panic downstairs, and some "crazies" on the loose. She actually felt good telling the story of her parentage now, but her mother and father were still gone. The rumors had proven true, after all these years. Katherine felt no regrets about never reconciling with her birth father, but she had the feeling her twin might have begun to feel the spark of it.

The best of it all: Dr. Carl Hill, Meg's new husband, was dead. It was no less than he deserved for the deviation of Herbert's life's work against him and the rest of them. Although his head had been found crushed almost to bits, but the rest of his body was an irreplaceable mess. His vehicle had been identified back at the hotel and that Dean Halsey, who had been the one to burst in and take his daughter away, was the driver, but it was confirmed that Hill had disappeared from his own wedding long before that. Even though the investigation was far from over, it was believed that Hill was the orchestrator of the mania, but the motive for the abduction of his new bride unclear.

Crawford had come to her and told her all of this, but Meg was nowhere in sight. She'd been helping take care of Herbert for the last hour, and it was getting late. Crawford shuddered with her when he held her hand and detailed what he and Herbert had seen Hill _do_ to her before they arrived. "I won't be able to stop thinking about it, have nightmares for I don't know how long," he told her. "And I don't think she will, either."

Katherine shook her head. "No," she agreed softly. Meg being mistreated in almost the same way as Herbert had been would never forget about this, but she had a feeling that, since Herbert had seen it all as Meg had, he would want to be there for her more than ever. But now that an investigation was on, he wouldn't be able to continue his research while he was here. He and Meg would have to leave for somewhere else, and if they did, Katherine was going to miss them both.

But right now, Hebert's life depended on it.

~o~

The hospital allowed her sister to go, and Meg was happy she was okay. But Herbert was staying behind for his wounds to heal, which would be a few days. He was on rest, letting his bones heal, and he was hooked up to keep hydrated and on oxygen, talking limited. She was permitted to visit him in the afternoon, which she was okay with. She'd showered and dressed into fresh clothes – a studded pink sweatshirt and antique jeans – and rode to the hospital with Katherine and Crawford, sitting in the backseat.

"Are they really coming?" she asked. She'd been told that Herbert's parents were coming to "check on" their son, which made her angry even though a part of her was glad that they were. She still wasn't sure if she could trust Isabel West, but Meg also hadn't met her husband yet, so she also didn't know about him. But they wouldn't come until later...but they could still surprise you.

"We'll wait out here until you want us," Katherine told her gently, pressing a sisterly kiss to her forehead. Meg fought back the flood as she nodded and turned to slip inside the room Herbert had been placed in. As soon as her eyes fell on the figure asleep in the bed, face heavily bruised and the glasses missing, now dressed in the white gown of a patient, her heart felt like silver had pierced it and let her blood drip and drop like rainfall. To ever lose this man who made her feel a way no man ever did before would be worse than a simple jab.

"Herbert," she whispered, not ashamed to let loose the words from her mouth, and no longer caring if anyone else heard her laments, but she would be extra careful to not even mention the work saved. "I'm so...so sorry I left you behind. I wanted to die with you, because I knew there would never be another like you. You saved me from Hill, did the unimaginable thing no other man would do for the woman he loved. But in the end, only for the briefest moment, I thought you were dead when I was pulled away from you. I was – I was so afraid you were gone, Herbert. If you were really gone, I would never have forgiven myself. I don't think I could have gone on without you, continued my life without you. You knew how to get under my skin the way I both love and hate, and I can't fight you when you're around.

"All my life, I've lived by rules and fear of the unknown, such as what would have happened if I broke them. But when you came along, I lost control and nothing else mattered anymore. I was so tired of being everyone's fool, and you made me feel I was worth more, just as I made you feel you were worth more than you were made to be." She broke off and moved closer, gently leaned over and rested the side of her head against his abdomen, careful not to apply pressure to his ribs. "Oh, Herbert, please don't leave me alone. Get well so you can get out of here, and we can live as we should, like Crawford and Katherine. I want to have with you everything they have, and I want more of what you make me feel the way I make you feel."

"Oh, Megan...my baby..."

She jerked her head up and hasped at the sourve of the voice in the doorway she hadn't heard come in. "Isabel...?" The woman's eyes were red and glassy, but not releasing the tears yet. Beside her was a dark-haired man Meg assumed was her husband, Rick. She would have called him handsome if he wasn't so stern to the face.

Isabel had dropped the colorful flower bouquet in her hand the same time she fell to her knees, ignoring her husband's rolling of the eyes and standing aside to let Katherine and Crawford appear, both looking down at Isabel in shock. "Oh, God, that was beautiful," she whispered. "Meg, please, forgive me, and my baby..." Her throat choked when she looked up at her still-sleeping son. "I was a horrible mother all these years and never cared until now. I wasn't there for him when he needed me, and now I see it's too late. My pleas don't mean anything to him now. I broke his heart and spirit when I should have encouraged him..."

"And by shoving him away, pretending he didn't exist because of a little mistake, which is supposed to be a journey and a part of life," Meg said with disbelief. "Calling him a mistake that wasn't his fault! You ought to be ashamed of yourself – the both of you," she added with a glare to Rick West, who shifted on his feet as he returned.

"Excuse me –" he started, only for Crawford to step in.

"Uncle Rick, not here when your own son was almost killed and is now on the sickbed after last night," he warned, getting a look of shock from him. "If you don't want to be here, then leave. Same with you, Aunt Isabel, regardless of your epiphany." She picked up the flowers and stood up while wiping her reddening face with one hand.

"Crawford, I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't come here for this. I came here because I realized I made a mistake long ago and want to fix it. My son has been hurt, and I thought I lost him like you almost did," she told Meg. "I want to start over with him, only if he wants to."

"I'll try."

"Herbert!" Meg gasped, seeing those soft green eyes opening groggily, not seeing everyone clearly, but knowing who was who. "Oh, my love, you're alive!" she wept with joy, taking his hand into hers. He smiled at her through his oxygen mask, which he slowly reached up to remove so he could speak a little better.

"I love you, Meg," he told her softly, then looked back up at the woman who gave birth to him but neglected him most of his life. His lips tightened then. "I won't...forgive you for everything you've done...but...I accept you, Mother." She bowed her head then, not allowing her son to see her emotions. "But I will never accept you, Father, for standing by and letting it happen." Rick West simply shrugged, shook his head, and turned to leave the room. "And you two...thank you for everything. Being by our sides through the best and worst of times. I have no better words to describe." He put his mask back over his mouth and turned his attention back to Meg, reaching over to cup her cheek with his hand; in response, she turned her face into it and kissed his warm palm. She had never felt so much at peace until now.

~o~

He was released from the hospital on Halloween exactly. He had never truly been interested in the holidays because during his childhood was always the same: his mother screaming at him to stay out of the way, his father sitting back and just watching Crawford open his Christmas presents first while Herbert was always second in line. As for Halloween, there were times Herbert was allowed with Crawford when his mother would just stay home. But that was years ago.

This time was different. Herbert had made the excuse to not go to the Halloween party at the university which Meg was attending with Crawford and Katherine...when he was actually making a surprise show up for her. It was because he had really great news for her. Well, for himself, but he wasn't sure about her.

He had been stunted in his work long enough. They needed to get back on track, but now wasn't the time because the police were still investigating into the "Miskatonic Morgue Massacre". He laughed at the dark humor in the title and irony of the situation. The late Dr. Carl Hill had been labeled as the perpetrator, but the insane Dean Halsey was also called his "accomplice", even though those idiots of the force were still double-checking. They'd asked Herbert his relationship with them both. "Professional differences with Dr. Hill, although he tried to steal away Megan, the woman I love," he'd answered calmly. "But as you already know, Halsey had, out of the blue, lost his mind that Hill took advantage of. You found his lobotomy kit and saw that he 'treated' the good doctor to do his bidding." They accepted that, too, convicting enough against Hill.

As for the "maniacs" running about the floor of the morgue, it was safe to say that Hill had let them loose for unknown reasons as to where he gathered them from, just set them up in the morgue against the three – him, Crawford and Meg.

Lying in the hospital bed had made him feel weak, although he refused to let his thoughts dwell too much on that, choosing to take Meg's advice to get well again so he could be with her again. Waking up the day after his body was nearly crushed to death felt like he was waking from the dead; the darkness had been nothing, no feeling included, but he had longed to wake up in Meg's arms. Even though he did awake with her beside him, her hand taking his in, as well as Crawford and Katherine there.

Even his parents.

Even though he would never be close with them, Herbert heard every word his mother had said, voicing regrets and crying – actually wanting to make amends, since from his own instinct, he knew those were real tears – and begging for his forgiveness for making his life a living hell. The fact that she had a similar experience with her own mother didn't erase his loathing all the way, but Meg was right: with a little more time, if not now, he could forgive her as she forgave her father when he died a second and final time. His father, however, was unforgiving after standing by and doing nothing to save his son.

But no longer was Herbert the scared, angry, defenseless little boy he was then. He'd grown into a man who no longer cared what anyone else thought of him, sought to accomplish the one great goal in life many tried and failed – this wasn't over until HE said it was over – had his loving cousin and his cousin's wife who saved him from life imprisonment at his side...and the most wonderful, beautiful and brave woman he'd ever known in his life.

And who he just now spotted from where he was now, hiding in the shadows which protected him from all eyes around.

Meg's dress was a rich green that could nearly be the color of the ocean, nearly enough to match her jewelry. The dress fitted her body in the right places, shimmered with radiance, had a subtle sweetheart neckline and sheer sparkling cap sleeves with a ruched and bejeweled side. The diamonds in her ears and around her neck were magnificent and just as ocean blue, glimmering a clear blue fire as bright as the rarest diamond, magical as the sea. And so was she...

Katherine was a different story, choosing a more youthful and innocent palette. It was ivory chiffon with a bodice that had short cap sleeves and a see-through bodice beaded lavishly with crystals, the neckline round and without the need for a necklace. The earrings revealed by her hair pulled up and knotted with care looked like they were a recreated miniature version of a royal crown; gold set with shimmering white diamonds, lustrous pearls and a glistening red ruby at the center. Crawford had abandoned his jacket on the back of his chair, taking his wife up for a dance but Meg declined, choosing to go outside for "some air". He knew this one all too well; an excuse to get away from the overwhelming festivities, but their family didn't force her to stay if she didn't want to.

She walked past Herbert without seeing or sensing him, and he smirked, seeing this as his time to strike.

"You look beautiful," he told her, once they were alone on the balcony of the stairs behind the building. The cool autumn wind brushed against his skin and made his hair wisp gently. He felt refeshed, like he was being filled with an invigorating beverage. Her hair fluttered slightly and over her face when she spun around at the sound of his voice.

"I thought you weren't coming," she said, incredulous. She leaned backwards against the railing, both hands on either side of her holding onto the bar. She reminded him of one of those historical female figures. He moved to stand beside her, and when he was close enough to nearly touch her body with his, her lips parted slightly when she looked him over. "Oh, Herbert." Her hands let go of the railing and come up to gently explore the contours of his face with her fingers. He knew exactly how he looked; his face was dark purple softening to lavender, his lips swollen a little, but he wasn't ashamed.

"I staged it to surprise you here," Herbert answered, still looking her down. "I have been planning this ever since leaving the hospital, but I couldn't wait another minute longer. I'm well aware we are under scrutiny now, so that is why I need for us to get away from Arkham for awhile and get back to work."

She stared at him in utter shock, speechless. He knew she would. What he was proposing was leaving Arkham, their hometown, and that meant leaving Crawford and Katherine behind. Neither of them would end up finishing medical school, not while a police investigation was underway, but chances were they could return as fully experienced medics and welcomed back into Miskatonic for full-time work. He could feel it happening that way, and she would have to trust him. "But, Herbert..." She sounded so doubtful and worried about the unknown future ahead of them both, as well as abandoning his cousin and her sister – their family. "...where will we go if I say yes?"

He shook his head and turned around to look ahead at the town bedecked with all things frightening, much like the forthcoming ahead of them. "I don't know...but I know we'll make it. We made it alive this far. We can survive anything." She leaned into him, and he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her close to him for awhile longer before the cold became too much and he led her back inside.

~o~

 _Three years later_

Brazil was a paradise for tourists, one of many, but for two young medical students leaving home for greater pursuits, it was the "perfect" getaway from an ongoing police investigation. In the Amazon rainforest of all places, it was the perfect seeking of reptiles possessing regenerative qualities, which Herbert believed might further the strength of the re-animation serum. He'd found a unique reptilian creature he'd taken to calling the "Cuzco iguana", using its amniotic fluids as well as all the necessary muscle proteins. He felt that something had been missing to the formula all along, and this was it.

The results proved better than in Arkham. Though the process was slower with this new addition, taking minutes to course through the body, the subject returned back to normal, and Meg couldn't have been happier. Just as she had been when Herbert agreed to never bring back anyone who would dare try to kill them. Also, no body parts either, after what happened with Hill. At first, he'd wanted to experiment with whole parts, but they were supposed to work with _whole_ human beings, not create masses of different parts of bodies. Meg would not allow their great work to become something sick as that.

Now that they had the answer they sought, they were going home.

They'd worked as medics in the city of Iquitos, Peru, near the Amazon, which was the big city life that Herbert was not used to. And while Meg had gotten used to the humidity and constant rainfalls, she was more than ready to go home to their shared family. They'd written occasionally to Crawford and Katherine, detailing their adventures on the river, and in both the city and jungle – and the success they made which they couldn't wait to return and show them. But first things first, which they'd been talking about for weeks now that Meg had finally gotten Herbert to agree to after a great amount of persuasion.

"Remember you said you were afraid of losing me, all those years ago?" she'd asked two months prior. "I was afraid I'd lost you that night. Hasn't anything made you realize that we should take the next step...before one of us regrets it sooner or later?"

He'd frowned. "Like what?"

She'd been nervous asking him when it should be _he_. "When we get back to Arkham, we should get married."

Herbert's response was as you'd expect, for someone who loved things as they were and didn't expect to hear something he never considered before. "M-married? Are, um...are you sure?"

Meg had nodded vigorously and took both his hands into hers. "Yes, I'm sure. There is no one else in the world I'd rather spend the rest of my life with than you, Herbert. Say you will, or you won't. I can wait a little longer, but I want to continue to have my heart opened to you and yours to me before one of us is taken from the other." That was all it took before a tear rolled down his cheek, and Herbert agreed to marry her as soon as they settled back into Arkham.

Five months later, Meg stood in front of Herbert underneath an arch crawling with vines, suspended with a crystal chandelier adding glamour to nature. This was nothing compared to the other one that was supposed to be her childhood fantasy come true; no, this was beautiful reality that was just as surreal. The gown made her look and feel like the woman she'd become; it was bewitching beaded lace atop satin, dazzling with Swarovski crystals on the sweetheart neckline. Instead of a veil, she chose a circlet with a dainty filligree design adorned with numerous diamonds sparkling like stars in her hair. She carried an exquisite bouquet of green orchids and white lilies; even her new perfume Katherine bought her was equally opulent, smelling of orange flowers and precious amber.

The guest list wasn't large, mostly Dr. Harrod, Bubba Brown, some colleagues of Miskatonic, and Crawford as his best man and Katherine as her maid of honor in a long, strapless, soft green dress accommodating her seven months' notice. She and Crawford were expecting their first child, having picked Gabriel as the boy name and Erin – after the twins' mother – if it was a girl. Meg was over the moon about becoming an aunt, and Herbert was excited, if not the same as her.

"With this ring, I promise to be yours forever." She looked down at the brand new ring she loved more than the last one; it was so timeless and distinctive, with the vivid emerald set in an east-west direction, and two diamond baguettes alongside, all set in warm yellow gold. "It was my mother's," he whispered to her. Isabel West had passed away last year, and no one had seen Rick West since then. Crawford and Katherine had been holding onto their rings ever since then, Herbert's parents saying they wanted their son to have them should he and Meg ever decide to marry like today.

Oh, married. She was a married woman, only this was the man she loved instead of the one who tried to tear them apart and failed. After finishing their union with a kiss, they happily danced down the aisle and vanished from their sight so they could be introduced to their reception party and then steal some time for each other while the guests refreshed during the hour before the party started.

The inside reception, taking place in the same barn where Crawford and Katherine tied the knot, looked like it had magically blossomed on its own; from the leaf-covered tablecloth to the branch-inspired candelabras, the incredible centerpieces were filled with delphiniums, viburnums, white lilacs, ranunculus and sweet pea. And the cake was short of one tier than the one at her last wedding, but it was still soft ivory white but decorated all over with flowers of pearly pink, showered with a circular curtain of crystals. "Herbert, is this everything you ever wanted?" she asked him, looking up at her new husband. He smiled sweetly down at her.

"No, everything I ever needed is right here in front of me." He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Remember people die but real love is forever?" he asked softly.

Meg giggled and wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him down. "But no one will die anymore, thanks to us."

"Precisely. And neither will us, regardless of 'til death do we part'," he quoted, laughing with her and sharing yet another long, passionate kiss before she broke it gently.

"Herbert, do you regret deciding to marry me?"

His sweet, handsome face turned to shock at the question she just had to ask, only to make sure. "Of course not! Why do you ask such a question?"

"To make sure," Meg answered. "In spite of everything we've been through, losing people we love, I still love you and am bound to you whether we wed today or not. Either way, _I_ don't regret it. I found my inner strength because of you, you exposed me to more than I had been, and I wanted more because of that. I was afraid to love you because of the fear of what happened when we were discovered breaking the rules, but you made me not care anymore."

Herbert's smile was back. "Then, Meg, should I ask you in return if you regret marrying me?"

"Not at all."

"Because for years I felt I would never be loved, because it was never given to me, and as a result, I never gave it back. I never looked beyond the scope of my research – now ours," he added with one hand coming to rest on her waist. "Let's go outside before the guests arrive." They exited through the back door where they were given privacy and open country so they could continue their "lover's chat". "I never slept at night because of the terrors I faced along the way, but nowadays I do because of you. At night when I dream, no longer needing the re-agent..." He'd suffered terrible withdrawal in the early weeks of Brazil without the weak form at her insistence that it was for dead things and not the living. "...I see your face only. I was afraid to love you, too, because I did not wish to be hurt again, and to lose you, but you changed my life forever. You made me strong again."

She leaned against him, his heartbeat a soothing, magical rhythm – and beating a thousand times as fast as the necklace she still wore now around her neck. The diamond heartbeat emblem he gave her long ago that she still refused to take off. Love never made the heart weak; it made it stronger than any oasis in the desert. "We healed each other through best and worst," she said softly, holding the charm up between her thumb and forefinger for him to see. Through each other's broken hearts and souls, they saw each other's strengths and weaknesses which made them both stronger.

That sealed their fates: they wanted no better man or woman than they had now.

Meg laid her head against his heart again, trying not to cry again. Being with him had caused her to let loose all the emotions she'd been forced to keep bottled up for so long. Her heart was his as his was hers; they'd been damaged, but no more. Herbert had his crushed and his innocence taken away, but Meg revived it, whereas hers was sleeping peacefully but awoke with a fiery vengeance when he introduced her to bringing back the dead. Overall, they were free to be themselves with each other as well as Crawford and Katherine, their family in both blood and bond.

"Know this, Meg, my dear," Herbert said, his voice a low purr now, "I love you with all the fire in my body. More than the re-agent can revive any dead or dying cells."

"Those are the most marvelous words I've ever heard in my life." She let herself be enveloped in his embrace again and kissed with all of the passion poured in. "Herbert, do you remember the first time we kissed?"

He chuckled. "Every detail...and the rest that followed. I never imagined we would be as we are now. I never thought it possible, either, nor did I think I would believe in it, but I believe we found salvation in each other." Meg nodded and looked behind her when she heard the music starting up and the chatter of their guests, waiting for the bridal pair to show and begin their first official dance as Crawford and Katherine had. The new Dr. and Mrs. Herbert West – Dr. and Dr. West, and so funny – sent them into a frenzy and joined together in the middle of the dance floor. To even be in the same place her sister and brother-in-law had been once before was too introspective for words, but she loved every minute of it, wrapping her arms around Herbert's neck as his arms wound around her waist.

"One more question for today," Meg announced, making his mouth twitch. "Was I yours the moment your eyes laid on me that very first day?"

He leaned forward and kissed her, not caring that people were watching. "Even when I didn't think about it at the time? Yes," he answered confidently. "You were always mine. What about you, Megan? Did you think I was always yours?"

She returned the kiss with a full promise of their future. "Even when I didn't think about it at the time?" To turn his words back onto him made Herbert laugh. "Yes. You were always mine, Herbert."

 **I have to tell you I enjoyed this as much as I did "Raptured in Re-Animation". :) Although all of my stories are my babies and I NEVER pick a favorite. Furthermore, to have Re-Animator and From Beyond combined together to make a slightly different AU was like embarking on a mystical journey of danger and excitement, but overall worth it. There are no other words to describe it. This is not the last story I will ever do, but to all the fans, keep checking for more stories I will update in the near future.**

 **For those of you who don't know, behind the title: the bleeding red rose represents a lost love or a broken heart. As for the white, it means either you've been hurt physically or you hurt someone else.**

 **With that being said, thank you for tasting this story like a delicious piece of fruit. ;) I know I certainly did in the making.**


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